


Breaking Habits

by TheIndigoRaven



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Independence, Multi, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIndigoRaven/pseuds/TheIndigoRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dawning of Fourth Year at Hogwarts brings about many changes for Harry, including being entered into a deadly Tournament.  After some inspiration over the summer Harry decides to make something of his life and get serious about school, and relies on a growing network of friends at Hogwarts, even as others abandon him. Intelligent!Independent!Harry, Harry/Susan/Padma HP/SB/PP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 - Aboard The Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended
> 
> This is a Harry Potter/Susan Bones/Padma Patil story (neither of these girls gets much love from fanficcers, Padma in particular, so I hope y’all enjoy it). Eventually, there will be mature content, though it will be a while before anything smutty comes into play.
> 
> This starts in the ending paragraphs of Goblet of Fire Chapter 11 – ‘Aboard the Hogwarts Express’, right after Draco’s visit and during the little several-hour timeskip in those last few paragraphs, and goes increasingly AU from there (though actually one could say it’s already AU from there, as I add in stuff that’s more “behind the scenes” from earlier books where Harry has actually made friends with more than just the Golden Trio and the rest of the Weasleys)

  
**  
Chapter 1: Aboard The Hogwarts Express  
**  


Ron’s bad mood over Malfoy’s visit to their compartment on the Hogwarts Express continued as Seamus and Dean excused themselves to go back to their own compartment, leaving Neville alone with Hermione, Ron, and Harry. The room was silent for the next several minutes, aside from the sound of Hermione flipping the pages of her Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 4. 

Usually Ron would be cajoling Harry into playing Wizard’s Chess, or a precarious game of Exploding Snap, but Malfoy’s comments about the World Cup, and whatever this mysterious thing he had hinted at – which seemed to be the same as what Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and the others had been slyly mentioning – appeared to have kicked him into his grumbling and fuming mode. Nothing short of Malfoy running through the train with his pants on fire would pull Ron out of this funk anytime soon. 

Harry sighed, and then stood up, and made for the door.

“Where are you going, Harry? You’re not going to go hex Malfoy, are you?” Hermione asked, looking up from her book – and Ron looked up from his lap, a hopeful gleam in his eye at her words.

Harry chuckled, and shook his head. “No, I’m headed to the loo. Malfoy’s a git, but I don’t want to be in trouble before the year even starts.”

Hermione smiled softly, and nodded, before she looked back down to her book. Ron turned back to stare glumly out the window, muttering under his breath, while poor Neville just looked uncomfortable at the silence that had set over the compartment.

Harry entered the corridor of their rail car, and started down it to the right toward the nearest loo, which was two cars down. He passed numerous compartments, many filled with first or second year students that he did not recognize, but every few compartments he would spot someone he knew. In one, he saw Lee Jordan huddled around something with Fred and George, the Weasley Twins, and Harry suspected it had something to do with their ‘Wheezes’ that Mrs. Weasley had been so upset about the Twins for the entire time he’d stayed at the Burrow.

Ahead he found his way blocked by the trolley lady who was pushing the Sweets Trolley on a return trip through the Express. She looked up at him and smiled. “Hello again, dear. Would you happen to like anything else from the cart?”

Harry thought of getting a Cauldron Cake for Ron to replace the one he had crushed in his fit over Malfoy, but then decided against it – Ron seemed to be getting especially touchy when it came to Harry and gifts and money. “No thank you, ma’am,” he said shaking his head.

She nodded, and continued to push the cart along, edging to the side of the compartment to let him slip past her.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boy’s loo was not occupied, so Harry quickly entered and went about his business. When he emerged, he made the mistake of only looking to one direction as he stepped out, and found himself running bodily into someone else, who let out a feminine-sounding “Ooof!” as they nearly tumbled to the ground. 

Thankfully his balance here seemed rather better than it did after the Portkey trip earlier this summer, allowing him to stay upright, and his Seeker reflexes allowed him to grab the arm of the girl he’d run into before she was knocked backward to the floor.

“Sorry,” Harry said, finding himself looking down into the brown eyes of a pretty, dark haired Indian girl. It took a moment, his eyes running over her face, for him to realize that it was not Parvati, his Gryffindor classmate, but rather her identical twin - Padma Patil. She was a Ravenclaw in his year that he had gotten to know at first mostly in their Transfiguration classes last year, and Astronomy the year before, when he was often paired with her when they were not allowed to work in larger groups.

“It’s alright, Harry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she said, smiling brightly at him.  
“Neither was I,” he said, and could hear a bit of embarrassment in his own voice.

Apparently Padma heard it too as she giggled melodically. “Daydreaming?” She asked teasingly, reaching up to brush a strand of her smooth, long black hair out of her face, her pink lips curling up into a grin.

“Er…” Harry began. “Sort of. Just thinking about things – Ron’s all in a fit about Malfoy, Malfoy’s being his usual arrogant self….”

Padma rolled her eyes slightly. “No offense, Harry, but isn’t Ron always in a fit about Malfoy? That’s about the only thing I hear from Parv when she mentions him. That or the Chudley Cannons.” She said, her lips quirking.

Harry chuckled, and ran a hand through his messy black hair. “I guess you have a point there,” he admitted wryly.

He glanced down behind her, trying not to stare as his gaze slid down the smooth caramel skin of her neck, toward the vee of her blouse, and then past her chest – she’d been an “early bloomer”, going through puberty before most of the girls her age, even Parvati, and he knew she hated it when people stared at her breasts. On the floor behind her, he saw her trunk, which had taken a tumble during their collision.

“So where are you off to? It’s still a few hours before we arrive at Hogsmeade, I thought you’d be riding with Parvati?”

“Oh,” Padma said, looking slightly surprised that he’d noticed the trunk. “Well, I did spend some time with Parv, but then Lavender came in, and they started gushing over the Victor Krum article in this month’s Teen Witch Weekly, so I got out of there while I still could,” she said smiling when Harry chuckled and shook his head. “But I usually spend at least part of the trip with a – um, other friend, anyway,” she finished clumsily.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Oh, ‘a –um other friend’? Does Padma have a secret boyfriend she doesn’t want me to know about?” He pondered aloud, hiding his grin by reaching up to exaggeratedly stroke his chin. “A Slytherin perhaps?”

Padma’s eyes widened, and a flush darkened the skin on her cheeks. “No, I don’t,” she said, and glanced at him before her eyes darted away and she blushed further. “It’s a girl I’m meeting, if you really must know,” she said in mock exasperation.

“Ah, a girlfriend then? I didn’t realize!” he said, enjoying paying her back for all the times she worked to get him flustered. 

Her cheeks were practically glowing now. “I didn’t mean- oooh, you prat,” she said, swatting his chest lightly. “Fine, a point to you, but I’m still ahead by about a hundred. But no, she’s not a girlfriend, though that isn’t to say I’m not willing to experiment,” she said as she regained her composure, whilst it was Harry’s turn to blush, and his eyes started to glaze over a bit as the image that accompanied her statement entered his mind.

He was brought back to the real world with a poke to the ribs from a now-smirking Padma. “I think I know what’s going through that mind of yours. Glad to see my evil plan of corrupting the innocent mind of the great Harry Potter-The-Much-Hyphenated is succeeding,” she said.

Harry shook his head and grinned, glad that he’d made friends with the quirky Ravenclaw. He didn’t spend nearly as much time with her as he did Ron and Hermione, and over the last year had begun to feel bad about how much he cut himself off from everyone else, but Padma was still always there for him to talk to when he needed it. He’d been a bit hesitant when he was first getting to know her, given her sister being known as the Castle Gossip along with Lavender, but he’d found that for all that was often said about identical twins, Padma wasn’t very much like her sister. Perhaps that’d been the reason for her being sorted into a different house.

Padma had been especially important to him last year when Hermione and him were on the outs over his Firebolt, and while Ron and Hermione were arguing constantly over ‘Scabbers’ and Crookshanks – ‘Smart cat, too bad we didn’t let him eat that little traitorous rat’ Harry found himself thinking.

“Yes, I think you are definitely succeeding in tainting my poor innocent mind, Padma. Are you sure you don’t secretly work for Voldemort?” He asked teasingly, pleased when she only gave a slight shiver at the name – something he’d worked on by using it often with her to rid her of the reaction so many wizards seemed to have. 

“So, who’s this friend of yours? Can I meet her?” Harry asked.

Padma bit her lip, her pearly white teeth contrasting with her dusky skin. “Well… there’s…. you were right in one of the things you asked me…” She said looking hesitantly. “She’s a Slytherin, and I know you don’t tend to get on well with Slytherins, but she’s a nice person….”

Harry winced, realizing that he indeed didn’t have a reputation of getting along with anyone of Slytherin House, though most of the animosity was due to the house rivalries between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and the rest was the pureblood supremacy attitude that Malfoy and his minions espoused.

“Well, if she managed to become friends with you she can’t be that bad,” Harry said, grinning slightly. He bent down to help her right her trunk, and swept his arm in the direction she’d been traveling. “Lead on, I’d like to meet her.”

Padma smiled brightly, her eyes lighting up. “I think you’ll like her,” Padma said. “She’s a lot like me,” she said, leading a half step ahead of him as he walked to her side.

Harry nodded, and shoved his hand into his pockets. “So how was your summer? Sorry I only got a few letters to you, things got a bit hectic toward the end for me.”

“Summer was great, I got to spend a lot of time with mum, and Parvati which I don’t get to do enough of at school. Later in the summer, mum was at the Wizengamot a lot, they’ve been having a lot of votes and debates about the World Cup, and some international event that’s coming up.” 

Padma’s mother, Lalita Patil, was the current Head of the Patil family, and had taken up her husband’s position when he’d passed away the year before Padma and Parvati had begun school at Hogwarts. According to Padma, she also oversaw the affairs of Patil Spice & Herb, the family company. Their great-grandfather had been an entrepreneur, and one of the earlier wizards of Indian descent to begin migrating to England. 

While its name spoke to the early beginnings of the business, when it became the only company to sell cooking spices from India throughout Magical Britain, it had quickly branched out, and now was one of the primary sources of foreign potion ingredients for the country. Enter into any apothecary and it was almost guaranteed that at least a quarter of their ingredients came from PS&H. They were still well known for their spices, however, and had cornered the market for exclusive contracts with any Indian restaurant operating in a magical or mixed community.

The family fortune had grown rapidly under Padma’s great-grandfather, so much so that this, along with her grandfather’s participation during the war with Grindelwald as one of the Heads of the British Auror Forces, had led to them being granted a Seat in the Wizengamot – something rarely done for a Pureblood family that had only recent ties to Britain. Though arguably, the Patils could trace their Magical ancestry back much farther than most of the English Pureblood families of today – it was simply Indian ancestry, rather than English.

Her father had continued the family business, and followed his grandfather’s footsteps in becoming a respected politician amongst the Wizengamot, before he died abruptly of a resistant strain of Dragonpox just a few years ago. Leaving his wife to take care of their twin daughters, as well as the business and Wizengamot duties.

“Mum wouldn’t say what the event is,” Padma continued, bringing him back to the present, “but I managed to get out of her that it’s going to be held at Hogwarts.”

Harry nodded slightly, the various comments by the older Weasleys and Malfoy now making a bit more sense. “Mister Weasley works for the Ministry and he and some of the others were hinting at something happening at Hogwarts this year. Malfoy too, when he graced our compartment with his presence.”

Padma nodded. “I’m not surprised, it sounded like it’s going to be pretty big. Maybe even more so than the World Cup.”

“I got to go to the Cup,” Harry said, his mind still working at the mystery event.

Padma nodded. “I heard about that, up in the Top Box, right? I was down lower with Parvati - Mum got us some seats. She wasn’t happy about the little they had for security when those Death Eaters came through the campground – ripped the Minister a new one, along with Mrs. Bones and Mrs. Longbottom in the next Wizengamot session after that, she said.”

Harry chuckled. “She’s not a fan of Fudge, then? I don’t blame her, he seems like a bumbling little man so I’m not surprised that’s how he runs things.”

“No, she’s-“ Padma broke off as they seemed to pass through a silencing charm on the compartment door they’d entered. Once through, they both heard a loud disturbance down the hall of the car, muffled slightly by a closed compartment door.

“Get your filthy little hands off me! I swear, Malfoy, when I get my wand I’ll hex your bloody little bollocks off!”

Malfoy’s arrogant voice sounded down the hall. “Oh, you wish, but I think I quite like you like this. I could just take you right here, and there’d be nothing you could do. You could find out what it’s like to be with a true Pureblood.”

“Stop it! Let go of her!” A younger girl said, and a slap sounded, flesh on flesh as Harry pulled ahead of Padma, striding faster down the corridor.

“Hm, your little sister is becoming quite the looker,” Malfoy said. “Maybe she’d be more interested…”  
The voice of the first girl was louder now, and had a harder edge to it. “Lay a hand on her again and I’ll feed you your entrails you sick little bastard.”

“Daph!” Padma exclaimed behind him, dropping her trunk and dashing forward to keep abreast of Harry, who’d already been moving quickly down the hall as they neared the last compartment, clearly recognizing the girl.

Harry slid the compartment door open, his hand already on his wand, and found his grip tightening at the scene: Malfoy stood in the center of the compartment, his hand looking lewdly at a blond-haired girl who Harry recognized as Daphne Greengrass - she was a quiet Slytherin, and he couldn’t recall ever having talked to her. Her arms were being held down against the seat by Malfoy’s two goons, her blouse appearing to have several buttons ripped on top revealing a white bra underneath. Next to her, in the corner was a younger, dark-haired girl who was cowering back, a red handprint on her cheek.

Harry took a deep breath even as his vision started to turn red at the sight of Malfoy and his goons – mindful of his promise to Hermione that he wasn’t off to hex the little bastard. Once he’d calmed himself slight, he spoke up in his best cloying Malfoy-impersonation voice, exchanging a glance with Padma who looked like she was about to pull a Hermione and charge in to punch the git. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Padma? Lucy Malfoy’s little boy trying to feel tough by beating on a girl and her little sister? And from the sounds of it, I’d think his two little goons there should be getting jealous – it sounds like Malfoy is discarding his little boy-toys and becoming suddenly interested in the opposite sex. Maybe that means he’ll end his rather disturbing obsession with me – no offence, Draco, but I simply don’t bat for that team.”

Draco, who had jumped at their entry, had found his face slowly going through a spectrum of colors that could rival Vernon Dursley’s in variety, as Harry spoke to Padma.

Crabbe and Goyle seemed to, for once, get what Harry was implying, and they quickly let go of the girl before shuffling back away from a near apoplectic Malfoy.

“I-I am not gay, Potter!” Malfoy managed, looking incredibly flustered. 

“Oh, Drakie-poo, there’s nothing wrong with you being gay, and it’s fine if you don’t want to tell anyone yet, but really, you’re not fooling anyone. I mean, how many hours do you spend primping up your hair let alone the rest of you? I’m flattered at the time you take to look good for me, but again, I simply don’t return your affections, I’m sorry,” Harry said, schooling his face to look as apologetic as he could.

“You- you dare!” Malfoy shouted, reaching for his wand, but freezing as he saw both Harry and Padma already had theirs in their hands and pointing at him the moment his hand had moved. 

The blond boy appeared about ready to explode, and managed to growl out, “My father will hear of this!” as he charged out of the compartment, Crabbe and Goyle slowly following.

Padma let out a giggle as they left. “Oh Merlin, Harry, how did you keep a straight face?”

Harry’s expression finally broke, and he grinned widely. “Well, I knew Hermione would lecture me for hours if I hexed him, especially when I told her I wouldn’t, so I kept that in mind.”

His gaze returned to the blonde who had straightened her blouse and pulled her younger sister into a hug, where she was now clinging tightly to Daphne. Daphne looked up and smiled tremulously. “Thanks. Little prick caught me while I was getting ready to change into my Hogwarts robes so I couldn’t get to my wand.”

Padma moved forward and took Daphne’s hand in hers, pushing up the sleeve and frowning at the bruises growing on Daphne’s arm. “Daph, you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s fine Padma, he didn’t get to do much more than try to feel me up.” She shuddered. “Glad you showed up when you did, though.”

Padma turned toward Harry. “Harry? Do you mind waiting outside? I’m just going to help Daphne clean up a bit,” she said as she reached into her pocket. 

“Sure,” Harry nodded.

“Put this on the door on your way out,” Padma said, handing him an odd-looking oblong piece of wood similar in size and shape to a small ruler, covered with runic script. 

“It’s a runic privacy ward. Blacks out the windows, puts up a muffling charm and Notice-Me-Not charm around the compartment.” Padma said absently as he stared at it in confusion, and she began running her eyes over Daphne’s younger sister.

Harry took her tone as a cue to leave, and moved to the door. He placed the wood on the sill of the window, and it seemed to adhere there, and then the noises of the train outside became distant, and all of the windows darkened to black, leaving only the lanterns in the compartment to provide light. He slid the door open, impressed at what the little object was capable of, and then stepped out, and slid the door shut behind him. 

He walked down the hall and grabbed Padma’s trunk that she’d dropped in her dash down the car, and pulled it back and then sat with his back against the compartment door.

He figured they were getting Daphne into new clothes, and perhaps healing the bruises, and he didn’t mind being kicked out for the moment. It gave him more time to think – not just about skinning Malfoy alive for what he had been threatening Daphne and her little sister with, but about his future. He’d been thinking about it a lot more in recent days, especially with the chilling scene of the Dark Mark in the air over the World Cup campground reminding him that Voldemort was indeed out there in some form, and would clearly be coming for him.

It was his talk with Bill that had made him begin to think of what he was doing at Hogwarts, his classes and his average performance – something he realized he had done automatically, having been raised to keep himself at a low grade to remain below Dudley. That he knew next to nothing about that little runic device Padma had handed him only made it clearer how clueless he had let himself be, settling for keeping pace with Ron when he could do so much more. Talking with Bill, however, made him realize that if he didn’t do something different, he’d likely have to rely on his fame to get a job when he was older, as his mediocre grades wouldn’t cut it. And that was something he absolutely did not want to have to rely on.

*************

**One Week Earlier**  
 _  
“Hey, Harry,” a voice came from the doorway._

Harry looked up from where he sat outside in the cool night air, and saw Bill walking toward him, the moonlight glinting off his dragon-tooth earring. “Hi, Bill,” he said as the older boy settled down on the grass next to him.

“This is the part I miss the most about being home,” Bill said, nodding out toward the rolling hills and wooded land that made up the property around the Burrow. “It’s so peaceful – well, at least late at night like this,” he said wryly, jerking his head back toward the house.

Harry chuckled. “I bet it was crazy growing up in a house like the Burrow.”

Bill grinned over at him. “Especially with mum. Damn if she doesn’t have the biggest set of lungs I’ve ever heard – sometimes her Howlers are better than being yelled at in person,” Bill chuckled. “She loves us and all, but she can get a bit overbearing and controlling sometimes. One of the reasons I moved out and took the job that I took.”

“What’s it like, being a Curse-Breaker?” Harry asked. The hints he’d heard from Bill’s talking, and the rest of the Weasleys hinting at things made it sound very interesting. And he had to admit, he looked up to the older boy.

Bill shrugged. “It’s a living. It can be adventure-filled, but it can also be pretty boring. It all depends on the job, who you’re working for, and even more on your position on the Curse-Breaking team at the time. Gringotts is the largest employer, but there are some other private companies that work more with personal ward jobs – Gringotts is where you tend to get to travel, and consequently more dangerous. I enjoy it, though sometimes I wish that half our missions weren’t in Egypt. Summertime like now is unbearably hot out in the desert.”

“What is it that you actually do? Just break curses?” Harry asked, resting his elbows against his knees as he leaned forward.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that, though we do break and dispel plenty of different curses – you wouldn’t believe some of the crazy things the Ancient Egyptian wizards came up with: one time we came across a curse that released a swarm of thousands of scorpions, and another we ran into one that could suck your soul out of your body, like a Dementor.”

Bill ran a hand through his long red hair. “We also break down wards. Usually nothing like the Fidelius charm ward, because that’s next to impossible, but sometimes pretty tough ones similar to the wards around Hogwarts. Sometimes if the Goblins get a Wizarding property because it was put up for sale, or a family died out without a will, they’ll send us in to take care of any cursed objects, and tear down all the wards. It’s not all destruction of wards either - we’ll often put up special wards that only people in our profession know, or help Goblins place their own wards around something.”

Bill grinned. “It’s a great job, you get to travel a lot to different places, and lots of them are in nice and warm locations. I’ve been to Mayan ruins in Mexico, I’ve been to Egypt, the Sahara, South America, India, and even China. It’s nice to see the different cultures while you’re there, and each new place has its own challenges and its own ancient cultures that used wards and curses and other magicks that are unique to them, and can be pretty dangerous.”

“What’s the worse you’ve seen?” Harry asked, looking up at his taller companion.

“One trip, we were in an Indonesian ruin trying to recover gold from a chamber… One of the guys got sloppy, and triggered one of the primary deathtrap wards. When we got to him, he’d been completely stripped to the bone by a swarm of piranha-beetles.” Bill said with a grimace. “Pretty much every Curse-Breaker has at least a few accidents, or scrapes with death, though.”

Bill looked around warily, and then lowered his voice. “Don’t tell Mum about this, or I’ll never hear the end of her trying to get me to stop being a Curse-Breaker.” 

Bill reached down and lifted up the hem of his shirt, and Harry’s eyes nearly bugged out when he saw the long, jagged scar that ran from Bill’s hip, all the way up and across his stomach to his ribs on the other side of his body. The skin of either side of the scar was puckered in places as it had healed, and was a darker color than the surrounding skin, making it stand out quite clearly on his body.

Bill lowered the shirt, and sighed. “Nasty piece of work. I have a few more, but that was the worst, and the closest I came to dying. We were in an Aztec temple, and we missed one of the curses and another ‘breaker walked in first and activated it. It was some sort of Aztec beheading curse. I managed to put up a shield, and shove him out of the way, but it only slowed the curse and deflected it. Took a week to heal up, and it was some nasty dark magic so I’ll always have this scar to remember it by.”

Harry nodded, and turned his head back to look out again at the sky. Bill’s tales stirred something in him, something that he quickly realized he’d felt once before. It had been at the Dursleys, one time after dinner, when they’d settled around the large television and forgotten to make Harry leave and go to his room. Harry hadn’t made a peep, as such an instance was rare, and stood at the entrance to the room to watch where they couldn’t see him.

The film they’d watched was called Raiders Of The Lost Ark, and the story pulled him into the movie so much that when it had finished, he realized he’d been standing the entire time, and his legs ached. He’d felt the same feeling flutter in his stomach watching Indiana Jones’ adventure and discoveries. Hearing Bill now, with similar adventures, it made him want more than ever to emulate Indiana – and Bill, who he’d come to think of as a pretty cool older brother over the last several days he’d been at the Burrow and at the World Cup.

Harry turned back to Bill. “D’you think I could become a Curse-Breaker?” He asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

Bill grinned widely. “Well, that all depends on you. Aside from the boost that your whole ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ will give you – even with Gringotts – you’ll need to get good grades, and at least a passing grade in your Ancient Runes and Arithmancy NEWTs, as well as in Defense. Charms, Transfiguration, and even Potions only help your chances of getting into the profession”

Harry grimaced. “I went with Ron and took Divination instead of Runes and Arithmancy. Guess I’m out of luck,” he said with a sigh.

“Don’t count yourself out yet,” Bill said. “Divination, Runes, and Arithmancy are all electives, so you can drop or add them whenever you want. I know when I was in school someone did something similar and McGonagall let them. You’d start in the year below you, but I’m sure if you worked hard over next summer you could finish up all the 4th year stuff and get the Professors to give you an exam and let you in 5th year on schedule. You just have to talk to McGonagall, and probably the teachers of both classes”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Sure, it would mean more work than he usually had, but was he really going to get anywhere just being lazy and drifting through all his classes? Sure, he could probably go into professional Quidditch with abysmal grades, but that wasn’t really something he was very passionate about – Quidditch was fun, and fun to play, but his main reason for loving it was the flying. It wasn’t something he wanted to build a career out of to follow for the rest of his life.

“Thanks Bill, I’ll think about that.” Harry said.

Bill patted him on the back, and stood up. “And tell you what – if you really want to give Curse-Breaking a try, change up those classes, and then the summer before your Sixth Year, if you passed your OWLs in all those subjects, I’ll do my best to bring you along for the summer as a Curse-Breaker’s Apprentice. It’s not the most glamorous – a lot of the time you’ll be doing the grunt work, but you’ll get to see us at work, and we even let you try your hand at some of the less-dangerous wards. I decided to go into Curse-Breaking a bit late, so I started Apprenticing the summer after when you would start, but it’s what sold me on the profession.” Bill shrugged. “Just let me know during your Fifth year if you still want to, so I have time to set everything up. Don’t stay up too late,” he finished.

Harry nodded, and smiled in thanks, as Bill turned and headed back into the Burrow, leaving Harry alone to the sound of the occasional hooting of an owl, and his thoughts.

*-*-*-

Harry was startled from his ruminations by the compartment door sliding against his back. He quickly leaned forward and began to stand up so he didn’t embarrass himself by falling backwards into the compartment.

Padma looked down at him as he stood up, and smiled when she saw her trunk. “Thanks for getting my things, Harry,” she said. “You can come in now.”

He bent down and grabbed her trunk, hefting it – thankful for the lightweight charms on it, given he knew she loved hefty books nearly as much as Hermione – as she moved back to let him in. He slid it into one of the overhead spaces, and then sat down next to Padma who’d taken a seat across from Daphne and her sister.

“Potter,” Daphne greeted, inclining her head, looking a bit embarrassed – whether at the state he’d seen her in or simply that she’d needed his help with Draco he wasn’t sure.

“Please,” Harry said with a sigh, “just call me Harry – I’ve had enough of Draco today.”

Daphne’s pale blue eyes blinked, and she looked taken aback, her lips curving into a frown for a moment, before she looked back at him and smiled wryly. “I guess I did sound like that little ponce, didn’t I? Harry then – I don’t think we’ve ever really talked before. I’m Daphne Greengrass, and this is my sister Astoria,” she said, nodding to her little sister, who was staring at Harry with the same sort of hero worship he’d come to see from Colin Creevey.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you – I take it you’re the friend Padma was mentioning?” He said, glancing sidelong at his black-haired friend, who nodded.

He spotted a blue and bronze trim to the robes that Astoria had changed into. “You’re Ravenclaw?” He asked, slightly surprised.

“Y-yeah,” Astoria stuttered out, blushing slightly as she looked shyly across the apartment at him.

Harry saw Daphne glance at her sister and grin slightly at her bashfulness, before she turned her attention back to Harry. “Thankfully. Slytherin can get nasty, and I’m glad she doesn’t have to deal with that – especially now that it seems Malfoy’s testicles finally dropped over the summer.”

Harry gaped slightly at her bluntness – it was certainly not something he’d hear come out of, say, Hermione’s mouth. 

Astoria blushed brightly. “Daphne!” She exclaimed, looking wide-eyed at her sister.

Daphne just shrugged. “What? It’s the truth.”

Harry found his voice, and found himself laughing quietly. “You’re right, that does seem to describe it.”

“Not that they’ll remain there for long if I have my way,” Daphne concluded icily, glaring towards the closed compartment door. Harry suddenly felt the need to cross his legs protectively.

“Soo….” Harry began, trying to change the subject away from chopping off dangly bits. “I take it you’ve known Padma for a while?”

Daphne smiled across at her dark-haired friend. “Since we were toddlers, actually. Our mothers were good friends, and Padma and Parvati often stayed over when things got busy at the Ministry for Aunt Lalita.” Harry realized they must indeed have been close if Daphne had adopted that moniker for Padma’s mother.

Padma continued. “Parv is the only person I’ve really known any longer than Daph. Well, I guess I’ve known Susie for about as long as Daphne – whenever things got busy for mum, they’d usually be busy for Madame Bones, and the four of us sort of grew up together.”

“Why didn’t you introduce me sooner?” He wondered aloud to Padma.

“That’s partly my fault,” Daphne said, drawing his gaze to her. “Part of being in Slytherin means you have to hide a lot of yourself, and well, you’re a Gryff, and seem to hate us Snakes so I didn’t know how well you’d take it if I tried to talk to you…. Now though, Father is getting worried. He’s been getting a lot of pressure from the pureblood supremacists in the Wizengamot, and he’s worried that we might be building up to a second war. He wanted me to talk to you, Harry, to re-establish the old Alliance to keep our family safe, and keep some sort of semblance of sanity in the Wizengamot.”

Harry opened his mouth but was interrupted by a melodic voice from the doorway. “You guys aren’t plotting on how to take over the world and seduce Harry without me, are you?” Susan Bones asked as pulled the compartment door open – Padma had apparently not remembered to close it all the way after letting Harry in.

The redhead stopped in her tracks, eyes wide, and then her cheeks blazed a brilliant red. “Oh, erm, hi there, Harry….” She said, her eyes looking anywhere but at him – clearly she’d only heard a few snippets of Daphne talking, and hadn’t realized he was there.

Harry’s own face was rather red, as he exactly the full extent of what her statement had implied. “H-hey Susan… Uh… You guys really plot to seduce me when I’m not around?”

Padma smiled widely, a hint of a blush on her own cheeks. “Well, why not?” She said airily, “you’re quite a catch. Wouldn’t it be better that it’s us, rather than, say, Malfoy doing the plotting?” She asked, her teasing grin back in full force at the end.

Harry suddenly lost all color as he recalled his mocking of Malfoy just moments before. “Good point. Erm… plot away, as long as you can save me from any of those plots.”

Daphne shook her head, eyes dancing with mirth at Susan and Padma. “Well, don’t worry about me, Harry, I only attend for the world domination plots. Sorry, but you’re just not my type.” She said, smirking at him. “Anyway, before we were so amusingly interrupted by Ms. Hot-for-Harry over there, we were talking about the Old Alliance, and bringing it back to full strength.”

Susan shot her a mock glare, her heart-shaped face still flushed with embarrassment, but nodded after a moment. “Auntie Amelia really wants it too.”

“Old Alliance?” Harry asked, his brows furrowed. “What’s that?”

Daphne scoffed. “The old alliance of Neutral and Gray families, that’s gone back centuries. Potter, Bones, Greengrass, Longbottom, Patil as of the war with Grindelwald, and at least before this last war, Black.”

Harry’s eyes widened – he knew little about his Potter ancestry, and this was certainly news to him. “Wait. You mean, my family was allies with yours?”

Daphne shot him an annoyed look. “Yes, especially so, what with my mother and yours. Don’t play dumb, Harry.”

He simply stared at her, looking rather pathetically clueless to the blonde.

“Your mother, Lily, and mine, best friends in school? Didn’t you even read the letters mum sent to you? I told her you might think she was just some weird stalker, but I thought you’d at least bother to read them.”

“Wait,” Harry said, raising a hand. “Your mum never sent me anything-“

“Yes, she did,” Daphne countered hotly. “I watched her write them and strap them to an owl’s leg and send them every year for your birthday since you turned 10, telling you stories about your mum in school.”

Harry passed a hand over his face. “I didn’t – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you’re lying, I meant, I’ve never gotten letters from your mum, or anyone named Greengrass. My first letter from an owl was my Hogwarts owl, and I’ve only ever received owls from the Ministry, the school, or my friends. I…” he stopped – the idea that he had somehow missed getting the stories he always craved, about his mother, pulled at his gut like a knife. He took a deep breath. “I hardly know anything about my mum and dad – I’d have loved to read those letters….”

Daphne deflated, and he realized that she’d clearly been building up a bit of annoyance over the years at him not even responding to the letters. “Bloody hell,” she whispered. “Someone must be blocking your owl post. You mean to say you don’t even get fan mail?”

He shook his head. “No, why would I?”

Susan rolled her eyes, and leaned toward him to poke his scar with her index finger, the movement filling his senses with the floral perfume that the redhead wore. He’d tensed at the sudden movement – a product of growing up with relatives like the Dursleys – but the cool skin of her finger touching the scar that really only Hermione and Padma had ever touched before, sent pleasant tingles through his body. “You’re one of the most famous wizards in the world, and have been since that night, whether you like the fame or not. Of course you’d be getting fan mail. Right now there’s probably even grown women mailing you their panties or something.”

Harry’s eyes widened in horror, and then Daphne finally broke completely from her earlier annoyance and peals of laughter escaped her as she looked at his expression after Susan’s comment. 

Padma broke in, her face creased with a worried frown. “Setting up a post block is not exactly all that legal. If it was just a checkpoint to screen dangerous stuff, that’d be a different story because you would still get to look at everything. This sort of block… I’ll have to ask Mum, but I think it’s at least a few years in prison if you’re caught doing it. And it seems to be blocking mail from friends of your parents – I wonder what else is being kept away from you, and who has the motive to do that…”

Susan nodded. “You’re mostly right – the only people that can legally do an actual Owl Block are Aurors. Auntie Amelia has done a few. I’ll send her a letter and ask if she knows anything about why Harry would have one – that is, if this wasn’t done illegally.”

Harry was silent in his thoughts – he had a decent idea of who it might have been, really the only person it likely could have been, but he just wasn’t sure why. Why would Dumbledore block his owl post? Especially after he’d learned of Hogwarts? 

“I’ll have to figure out a way to dispell it when we get to Hogwarts,” Harry muttered. “Anyway, you were saying, our families were close?”

Daphne scratched her cheek and nodded. “Aside from our mums being friends, the Potters have been allies with the Greengrasses, Blacks, and Bones essentially since the Norman invasion in 1066. The Longbottoms came a bit later, in the 1300s, but they’ve been firm allies since. And of course the Patils were one of the more well known Indian families who often led the fight against dark wizards there, so they fit right in with our alliance.”

She paused. “The Potters were the leading force in the founding the Wizard’s Council, which was the precursor to the Wizengamot, and your House along with their allies, are the only remaining Noble and Most Ancient Houses that made it through to today. We controlled a large chunk of the Wizengamot before the war with You-Know-Who, and as long as Dumbledore’s voting bloc voted with us, we had the majority.”

“So, your father wants to rebuild the alliance, you said?” Harry asked.

Daphne nodded. “While we lost the Black family’s support during the war with Voldemort, some of the younger families like the Abbots, and the Davis and Zabini families have asked about joining with my father, Lady Longbottom, Aunt Lalita, and Madame Bones if we can get the pull of the Potter family back into play.”

“What do you mean,” Harry asked uneasily, “how could you get my family back into play – I’m only 14.”

Daphne sighed with exasperation. “Which means that you’ve one year before you take up Head of Family status. Didn’t your magical guardian tell you about this?”

“Er – magical guardian?” He asked weakly.

“Yes, every orphan or orphaned Heir of a family has a magical guardian assigned to them to teach them about the magical world and in the case of an Heir like you, your duties when you take control of your family’s power and resources,” Daphne said.

“Oh… I’ve never had anyone do that for me, but if I had to guess my guardian’s probably Dumbledore. He’s the one who placed me with the Dursleys – erm, the Muggles I live with.”

“Bloody senile old fool,” Daphne muttered under her breath. “Well, in any case, on your birthday next year you can take up your Head of House ring, and essentially be viewed as an adult in the Wizarding world. It’s not extremely common, but there’s precedent of similar situations in the past. Father wants us to get our alliance back together and asked me to talk to you directly this year, though I didn’t expect to meet you this soon.”

“Well, okay, if my parents trusted yours, I’m willing to do the same especially since Padma and Susan’s families do, but I guess I have a lot to learn about all this stuff. I’m glad I’ve been able to meet you – and Astoria, and I’d really like to meet your mum and dad… Most of the stories I’ve heard are usually about my dad.” He said softly.

All four girls’ expressions sobered slightly when they saw his wistful expression as his gaze moved to look out the window.

He looked down as he felt Padma and Susan both grab his hands from either side of him. Susan looked up at him with small smile, her aquamarine eyes moist, and filled with understanding.

“I know what it’s like, Harry. My Da died in a Death Eater raid before I was even born, and my mum was killed by them just a few months after she had me. All I’ve got are pictures, and Auntie’s stories.”

Padma squeezed his hand. “I had more time with daddy, but, a lot I don’t even remember, when I was younger.”

Harry smiled weakly back at the two of them, and nodded his head. “I…”

“It’s fine, Harry. We’ll make sure you meet the Greengrasses sometime this year.”

Daphne nodded. “I’ll send a letter and tell mum about the ward – if we can’t dispell it, she can always send letters to you through me.”

“Thanks guys, I…. thanks,” Harry said softly. 

He hadn’t made many friends, even in Hogwarts, but things were beginning to look very much on the up for him, he thought, while silence fell over the compartment, as they basked in the camaraderie that filled the room.

-  
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	2. Chapter 2: The Triwizard Tournament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Opening Feast, and announcement of the Tournament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter! Unfortunately, I am not she, and don't make the big bucks. Nor do I make any money from this fic – it's written solely for my amusement, and yours.  
> A/N: This is a Harry Potter/Susan Bones/Padma Patil story. Don’t like polyamory, don’t read.   
> Thank you all for the great reviews from last chapter. This one will finish up the rest of the ride to Hogwarts, and the events of the Welcoming Feast, as well as Harry’s first steps to changing the way he lives, and his future. There are a few places that borrow from this chapter in GoF (a few bits of Dumbledore’s dialogue, and Peeves’ dialogue), but most of it is similar or changed with my own twists, and a number of significant differences. Enjoy!

**Chapter 2: The Triwizard Tournament**

 

“So, Harry,” Susan said, tucking a lock of her long red hair – a rich dark red, much more pleasing to the eye than the shocking and gaudy red-orange of the Weasley Family – behind her ear, “What sort of mischief are you planning to get into this year?”

Harry choked out a laugh.  “Well, I guess it’s sort of a tradition, isn’t it?  I will have to think of something.  Though I was thinking of talking to Fred and George about a prank war on Slytherin.” He grinned at Daphne.  “Or at least Malfoy and his minions.”

She glared.  “You’d _better_ keep it to them– last time it took half a month after one of their pranks on Slytherin to change my hair from green back to blonde.  Besides, it wouldn’t look very good, pranking one of your Allies, now would it?” She asked, her lips twitching in a suppressed grin.

“I figured I’d tell them what you threatened Malfoy with,” Harry said. “I think you’ll be safe – no bloke wants his bits hexed off.”

Then he shrugged. “I’m going to be busy this year, though, so hopefully I won’t have much time to get dragged into too much trouble.  Aside from what I found out from you all about my Family, I was planning to talk to Professor McGonagall.  I’d like to drop Divination, and take up Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.”

Padma beamed at him.  “Really?  That’s great!  I think you’ll enjoy them.  Parv might like Divination, but it’s really only a helpful class if you’ve got The Sight,” she said, and then a mock pout appeared on her lips.  “You won’t be in my class, though.”

Harry sighed.  “Yeah.  I was just being lazy, and followed Ron into it, and now I’m regretting it.  I talked to Bill Weasley about how to change classes, and I guess I’ll be able to end up in your class by next year though, if I study hard enough on Fourth Year stuff over the summer and pass the placement exams.  That’s if Professor McGonagall and Professors Babbling and Vector let me switch.”

“Are you kidding, Harry?” Padma asked.  “I can’t see McGonagall turning down one of her own lions on the chance to improve their academics.  And I don’t know about Professor Vector, but Professor Babbling seemed disappointed that you didn’t take Ancient Runes.  She never said it outright, but she mentioned you a few times about how she had hoped you’d take her class.”

“We might have the same class-time,” Astoria said softly, causing him to look over at her.  She blushed.  “I’m starting Third Year, and I’m taking both of those classes, so we’ll probably be paired with Gryffindor for at least one of them.”

“Well, I guess I’ve found my study partner,” Harry said, smiling at the younger girl.

Padma leaned across the compartment and ruffled Astoria’s dark tresses affectionately.  “If either of you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask.  I love Ancient Runes, and I know Susan and Daph are good at Arithmancy; and I’m sure Hermione would be glad to help, especially if it’s a change from how Ronald tries to get her to do his homework for him.”

Harry looked away guiltily – while he had never been quite as bad as Ron often was, at least getting his work mostly done for her to check over, he had still never pressured Ron to stop trying to use Hermione in that way even though he could have.

Susan bumped her elbow against his.  “What made you decide to change classes?  I mean, I’m not complaining, it’ll be nice to have someone who knows something to talk to – not that you’re stupid or anything, just, you don’t know anything about… I’ll just shut up now,” she said, blushing brightly.

Harry chuckled, thankful for the interruption given the path his thoughts had been taking.  He had found that quite often Susan let her mouth run away on her and she would end up rambling until either she realized it herself or someone stopped her.  “Aside from being tired of Trelawney predicting my death each class, and having to come up with new ways for me and Ron to die for our homework?”  He asked, a ghost of a grin appearing on his lips.  “I just… I realized that I want to do something with my life, and Divination isn’t going to help me with that.”

“Well, give my thanks to whoever inspired you over the summer,” Padma said quietly.  “I like the look of this new, fired-up Harry.”  She smiled leaned slightly to the right so her cheek rested against his shoulder.

 “So I take it with all this work you’re not going to be entering the Tournament?”  Susan interjected.  “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Tournament?” Harry asked, echoed by the others.

Susan brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. “Oh, I, figured you’d know about it.  Your parents being in the Wizengamot and all, so I thought they would have told you guys because of where it’s going to be.” she said glancing at Padma and Daphne, “and I heard you were in the Minister’s Box at the World Cup, Harry, so I assumed he hadn’t been able to resist bragging about it.  I overheard Auntie talking about it on the Floo.”

“The _Triwizard_ Tournament?” Padma asked, her eyes narrowed slightly.  “Mum mentioned an event, and I did some looking at past events and that was one of the things I thought it might be.”

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“It’s a big competition, the three major European Wizarding schools all get together and hold the Tournament to compete with one another.  They choose a student from each school and they go through different tasks and are scored for how they do.  The winner gets their school the Triwizard Cup.”  Padma said, and frowned.  “They haven’t had it since the late 1700s, it was getting too dangerous – in the last Tournament a cockatrice escaped and almost killed the judges, and there were deaths of students in other years.  I hope they’re going to tone things down a bit, so it’s safer.”

“Well, I’m definitely not entering,” Harry said.  “I’ve had enough danger the last three years here, I’m not going to sign up to risk my neck _willingly_ when I don’t need to.”

Susan giggled.  “With your luck, Harry, and your fame, I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to choose you as the student to represent us.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but admitted she had a point.  “Probably.  But if they do, I’m refusing.”

Padma patted him on the arm.  “Well, from what I remember you have to enter your name into something and it chooses one student from each, so as long as you don’t put your name in…”

Harry nodded.  “Well, that’s good news at least.”

The warning whistle suddenly echoed loudly through the train, though oddly muffled by the runic array, they could only hear it from the outside window.  It was the warning to students to get dressed in their school robes, and that they were fifteen minutes from Hogsmeade Station.

Harry stood up, a bit surprised at how quickly time had passed.  “I’ll let you all get dressed, my robes are back in my compartment.”

“Alright Harry, see you when you get off,” Susan said, and then clapped a hand over her mouth, blushing.  “Wow, that sounded dirty.  Off the train, I mean.”

Daphne shook her head, grinning.  “It was nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Bye, Harry, I hope we’re in the same class,” Astoria said. 

Harry paused, and then glanced back.  “Hey, let’s meet up at the carriages and ride up together.”

Padma glanced hesitantly at Daphne, but nodded.  “Okay, Harry, we’ll look for you down there.”

*******************************

          “Harry!”  Hermione exclaimed as he entered their carriage.  “I was getting worried, you were gone for _hours_.”

          He smiled.  “Sorry, I ran into Padma, and she brought me to her compartment for awhile, and I lost track of time talking with her and Susan... and a few other friends of theirs.”  He said, seeing Ron and realizing why Padma had hesitated to agree.

          Ron was still sulking and glowering about the encounter with Malfoy, it appeared, which didn’t bode well for how he might react when he would see Daphne.

          Hermione smiled, though, glad that the boy who had long ago become her best friend had been opening up over the last year or so, and making friends outside of their close-knit group.  “Well, that’s good.  As long as you didn’t get into any trouble.  I was worried Malfoy did something.”

          Harry shook his head.  “No, I kept my promise, absolutely no hexing of Malfoy,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

          Hermione narrowed her eyes at the way he had phrased his answer, but before she could speak again, Ron spoke up.

          “Mate, do you know how boring it was here while you were gone?  How did you manage to stay around a bunch of girls talking about girl-stuff for that long?  You should have just come back.”

          Harry shrugged, and spoke quickly, seeing an imminent eruption of Mount Hermione at Ron’s dual-insult, both of being bored sitting with her, and his description of the fairer sex and their “girl-stuff”.

          “Well Ron, you were in your own world grumbling about Malfoy so I decided to spend some time with some other friends.”

          “Friends?”  Ron laughed.  “Good one, Harry.  They’re girls, mate”

          Harry rolled his eyes and went over to his trunk to pull out his robes.  “I wasn’t joking, Ron.  Brilliant observational skills there figuring out they’re girls.” Hermione had to smother a laugh with her hand at that.  “They’re my friends – in fact I invited them to ride with us in the carriage up to Hogwarts,” he said as he pulled his robes on over his clothes, and the train jerked to a stop.

          Ron sighed in exasperation, and grabbed his trunk.  “Fine, but I think you’re losing it, mate.  Really, spending your time with a bunch of girls instead of your best mate.  If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re a poofter,” he said as he left the compartment.

          Hermione placed a hand on Harry’s arm.  “Don’t listen to the boy who apparently thinks I’m either not a friend or not a girl,” she muttered.  “I’m glad you’re making more friends.”

          He smiled at her, and then glanced back at Neville.  “You comin’ Nev?  There should still be room for all of us, even if we have to squeeze in a bit.”

          Neville looked up at him, as if surprised at the offer.  “S-sure, thanks.”

          They reached the compartment door where Ron was waiting, and then made their way out into the near-pitch-dark.  Thunder crackled overhead, and the rain that had already been falling intensified until it felt as if it was coming down in ice-cold buckets of water. 

          Hermione bundled Crookshanks up in her cloak, and Ron had thrown a robe over Pigwidgeon.  Harry was glad he had let Hedwig fly on her own from the Weasleys' place – she’d know how to avoid the worst of the weather and get to the castle in her own time.

          They bent against the deluge, eyes squinted nearly shut as they ran toward the carriages.  At the far end of the platform, they could make out a gigantic silhouette, and Harry yelled out a greeting.  “Hi, Hagrid!”

          “Alrigh’ Harry?” the large groundskeeper bellowed back.  “See yeh at the feast if we don’ drown!”

          “Oooh, I wouldn’t fancy crossing the lake in this weather,” Hermione said, referring to the boats that every first year took across the lake for their first time to the castle.

          They dropped their trunks off at the edge of the platform where they would be brought up for them and left in their rooms by the time the Feast was finished. They met up with the rest of the students in the dark, and inched their way with the crowd toward the carriages that waited to take them up to the castle. 

          Through the downpour, Harry was able to make out the light of one of the few lanterns still lit glinting off of Susan’s red hair, which was whipping around her face as she tried to shield herself from the wind and rain with her hands.  He could see several other figures next to her as they walked up and stopped at a carriage.

          “C’mon,” Harry said over the sound of the storm, waving behind him at Ron, Hermione, and Neville.  “This way!”

          By the time they reached the carriage, Susan and the others were already inside, and Harry had to pull the door open, fighting the wind that tried to rip it from his hands.

          Hermione was the first to go in as he held the door in place, and she clambered up, stopping briefly at the top stair in surprise at the sight of Daphne and her sister, but then moved in to sit down next to them. 

Ron followed, but his reaction was much different, and left Harry feeling embarrassed.  Ron froze at the sight of one of the people in the compartment wearing Slytherin colors – her sister close by – and then took a step back, out of the carriage and nearly fell.  “Bloody hell, Harry, you were spending the trip with these Snakes?  No way am I riding in a carriage with them.”

“Come on, Ron, Daphne’s not like Malfoy.  Just get in.”  Harry said, gritting his teeth.

Ron climbed back down the steps of the carriage, and crossed his arms.  “No.  Kick her out, or I’ll find another carriage.”

Harry glanced back up into the carriage, and saw Astoria looking frightened at his outburst, and Daphne’s resigned expression as she seemed ready to get up.

“Fine.  Go on in, Neville, Ron’s getting his own ride.”

Neville looked nervously between Ron, who was now glaring at Harry, and Harry, who was pointedly ignoring him, and then climbed in, sliding in next to Hermione. 

Harry climbed up, the door still in his grasp.  “Last chance, Ron,” he called, but the red-haired boy was already marching off, mutters of “ _what kind of bloke abandons his best mate for a filthy Slytherin_ ” caught in the wind.  He slammed the door shut, and turned around to find Padma and Susan had slid apart so the only place for him to sit was between them.

He sat down, and both girls scooted closer to him until they were pressed up against him.  Padma grabbed his arm, her teeth chattering.  “I hate this weather,” she muttered, trying to steal his body warmth as much as she could.  

“Thank you, Harry,” Daphne said, and he glanced across. 

“He’s got to learn sometime,” Harry said sadly.

          “Oh,” he glanced over at Hermione and Neville as the carriage rocked into motion.  “Daphne and Astoria, these are Hermione and Neville, two of my best friends.”

          Astoria smiled shyly at Hermione who sat next to her whilst her sister inclined her head toward the two.  Neville seemed to sit up straighter at Harry’s words.

          “We know each other,” Daphne said.  “Hermione and I were partnered on a Runes project last year, and Neville and his Grandmother come to all of the Ministry Galas.”

          Neville nodded.  “Gran talked to your father the other week, too,” his voice more confident than Harry had heard from him.

It was as Harry had come to expect: Neville just needed some boosts of confidence and he could eventually overcome his shyness and insecurities.

The rest of the trip up to the castle was rather pleasant, especially with a lack of rude or off-color comments from a certain Weasley.  And especially so for Harry who spent the trip sandwiched between two of the prettiest girls in the school.  He had started truly noticing girls the previous year, especially Cho, but he certainly wasn’t blind to the growing beauty of the girls he had befriended.  Even Hermione was growing to be quite pretty, as weird as it was to think of her like that, given he considered her sort of an honorary little sister (even though she was older than he was!). 

Padma and Susan, though, had become good friends of his, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of their recent move toward being more… tactile… in their friendships with him, grabbing his hands as they walked through the castle halls, leaning against him…  Even holding onto his arm like Padma was now, which inevitably led to it being pressed up against her chest and certain body parts there that left him with a near-constant blush that he was thankful the dim light of the carriage hid.

He certainly wasn’t completely clueless – he understood that they seemed to like him, and flirt with him, but didn’t really understand the lack of any sort of rivalry between the two.  He had seen quite a few fights between older boys in the Houses over a girl, and even one or two between girls over a boy, so their behavior was confusing to him… but it had certainly helped take his mind off of Cho Chang, whom he doubted he would ever have a real chance with.

 

*******************************************

As the carriages swept through the gates, and up the drive toward the castle, the wind, which had previously been strong, seemed to pick up to almost a gale.  Looking out the windows of the carriage, they could see the outline of the massive castle Hogwarts illuminated by lightning flashes, a number of its windows visible by the lights behind them. 

The seven of them jumped down from the carriage, and rand for the large wooden doors of the castle along with everyone else.  As fate would have it, they could see Ron several people ahead of them as they entered the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall.  Suddenly Ron gave out a yell as a large, red, water-filled balloon dropped onto his head and exploded.

People around them began to shriek as more balloons hit the ground and the students.  Harry took several steps back, the others behind him doing the same, and they saw Peeves the Poltergeist hovering twenty feet above, tossing water balloons.

“PEEVES!”  Harry looked at the source of the yell, and saw Professor McGonagall dash from the Great Hall.  “Peeves, come down here at ONCE!”

Peeves refused, and kept lobbing the balloons, one at several older girls who screamed and dove for the Great Hall.

Harry stepped to the left and took the brunt of another balloon, which had been aimed at Padma, to the chest.  He gasped at the icy-cold water that soaked him even further, dripping down into his socks.

Professor McGonagall saw that, and took out her wand.  “Peeves, I shall call the headmaster.  Dinnae think I ye weren’t warned!”  She shouted, a bit of her Scottish brogue slipping into her voice as it often did when she was truly angry.

Peeves merely tossed a final balloon behind them at a group that had just entered the entrance hall, turned around and pulled his pants down to moon McGonagall, and then zoomed off up the staircase as he cackled the entire way.

McGonagall sighed, and turned to Harry, waving her wand at his cold and dripping clothes, and in moments he was much drier.  “Thank you Mister Potter, perhaps chivalry is not dead after all.  Go on, into the Great Hall with you all,” she said, making a shoeing gesture at everyone.

As they entered the doors of the Great Hall, Padma moved up beside him and grabbed his arm again.  “It seems you make a very effective shield.  I may just have to keep you around,” she said cheekily.

“That was bloody cold,” Harry said, still feeling the effects of it despite being dried off.

Padma grinned. “Well, thank you for sparing me the experience.  I had better head over to my table,” she said, and kissed him on the left cheek before gliding across the hall, greeting several of her classmates as she found an open seat.

“I’ve got to go find Hannah.  Let me know how your little talk goes,” Susan said before kissing his other cheek and striding off to where Hannah was sitting at the Hufflepuff table. 

Fortunately for him the Hall was crowded, with children greeting one another and waiting excitedly for the Feast to start, and only a few saw him standing stock-still, a silly grin on his face.

Daphne stepped up next to him, breaking him from his trance, and he glanced over at her, her sister giggling next to her.  “If you’re expecting one from me, you can dream on, Potter,” she said, smirking.  “Keep those twins under control, and I’ll send off that letter tomorrow.”

Hermione grabbed his arm as Daphne and her sister walked to their tables, and pulled him toward the Gryffindor table.  Neville followed closely behind, and they ended up sitting at the end of the table – Ron saw them and went to sit over by Dean and Seamus.

“What was Daphne talking about?”  Hermione asked, as the staff began to sit down at the head Table.

Harry frowned.  “I guess her mum was friends with mine.  She’s been sending me letters, but apparently I have some sort of Owl Post block targeting me, which is intercepting most of my post.  Susan and Padma are going to see if they can find out who set the block, and Daphne’s going to have her mum send letters through her – it’d be nice to learn more about my mum.”

Hermione’s gaze softened, and she reached across the table to squeeze his hand.  “Who would have set that block up?  That doesn’t sound very legal.”

“I guess it’s not.  We could only really think of Dumbledore having the pull to do something like that.”

Hermione frowned, her brow creasing.  “Well, it just doesn’t seem like something he’d do….”

Harry snorted, and leaned closer, lowering his voice.  “I wouldn’t be too sure.  Daphne started talking about restarting this Alliance thing.  Apparently a bunch of our families were allied on the Wizengamot, and they want to start things up again.  I didn’t even know I had a seat on the Wizengamot.”

Neville, who’d been listening, finally spoke up.  “You do, or at least you will.  My family was part of the Alliance, I think that’s what Gran and Lord Greengrass were discussing the other week.”  He looked at Harry, a puzzled expression crossing his face.  “Didn’t anyone teach you anything about your family, or politics?”

Harry shook his head.  “Apparently that was up to my magical guardian.  And since he placed me with the Dursleys, I think that’s Dumbledore.”  He glanced over at Hermione.  “That’s why I think it might be him that did the Post block.”

Hermione looked shocked, and rather angry at the idea of someone withholding such information from someone they were supposed to give it to – it was nearly as bad as destroying a book in front of someone before they could read it.  “Well, I’ll get to the library and start looking for things you need to know.”

“I-I can help with most of it,” Neville said hesitantly.  “My Gran’s been raising me to take over our Seat since I’ve been little, so I know everything works.”

Harry smiled at both of his friends.  “Thanks.  I get the feeling that Susan, Padma, and Daphne are planning on giving me a crash-course in politics too.”

“Hiya Harry!” a nearly breathless, excited voice called down the table, breaking up their discussion.

He glanced over and saw it was Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor starting his third year, who had a case of idol-worship toward Harry, who he viewed as something of a hero.

“Hey, Colin,” he said warily, glancing at the boy’s hands to make sure he wouldn’t be ambushed by the camera Colin often carried around.

“Guess what?”  The boy said excitedly.  “My brother Dennis is starting his first year!”

“Er – good,” Harry said, though inside his thought process was more like: ‘ _Please, no, not another!  One is enough!_ ’

“He’s really excited, can’t wait to meet you – I just hope he ends up in Gryffindor!  Keep your fingers crossed for him!”

“Erm, sure Colin,” he said, before turning back to Neville and Hermione.

“It’s unusual for siblings to get split up, isn’t it?”  Harry asked.  “I mean there’s Padma and Parvati and that makes sense because of how different they are, and there’s Astoria and Daphne who are rather different too, but then there’s all the Weasleys getting put together, and you can’t get much different than the difference between Percy and The Twins.”

Hermione nodded.  “Yes, it’s not very common.  I think you’ll have to grin and bear it though – you’re going to have both Dennis and Colin following you around even if they’re in different Houses.”

Harry grimaced, and glanced around the hall, several empty chairs at the head table catching his eye.  Of course there was McGonagall’s as she was waiting for the First Years, then Hagrid’s large presence was missing as he was bringing them (hopefully in one piece) across the lake in the storm.  It seemed like there was more missing, but everyone else seemed to be where they should, and he didn’t catch what he’d been missing until Hermione spoke up.

“Where’s the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?”

Each year they had gotten a new one – the first had been a stuttering man who was secretly possessed by the spirit of Voldemort, the second had been a vain glory seeker who used other people’s exploits and erased their memories so he could steal them to write in his own books.  The third, Remus Lupin, had been his favorite and the only decent teacher.  Unfortunately he had resigned last year when the rumor mill caught wind of the fact that he was a werewolf.

Harry’s eyes scanned the Head Table again carefully: the tiny Professor Flitwick who taught Charms was speaking with their Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout, and Professor Sinistra, an attractive young professor who taught their Astronomy classes.  The hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions teacher Professor Snape was there, sneering at every non-Slytherin student in the hall.

Next to him were Professors Vector and Babbling – Vector a woman in her late thirties or early forties with a long nose and wrinkle marks about her forehead; and Babbling, a short, plump woman with graying hair, closer in age to Professor McGonagall, and ruddy, plump cheeks that made her look rather cherubic and jovial when she smiled. 

Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat in the center of the table, garbed in deep green robes stitched with hundreds of little stars and moons.  His beard draped over where he was resting his chin on his fingers as he stared up at the enchanted ceiling, and the storm that could be seen through it.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open once more, and all of the chatter amongst the students and teachers stopped, as Professor McGonagall led in a group of bedraggled, soaking wet first years.  The sight of them – it looked more like they had been half-drowned rather than just rained on – made Harry thankful he’d had a storm-less boat ride in his first year.

One of the smallest of the boys, with mousy hair, was bundled up in Hagrid’s moleskin coat.  Harry saw the family resemblance even before the boy caught Colin’s eye and mouthed what looked like “I fell in the lake!” while giving a double thumbs-up and a wide grin to his brother.

Harry listened with half an ear as the Sorting hat was brought out and broke into its annual Sorting song, thinking about how small they all looked and wondering if he had really been so tiny when he had come to the castle.

He was paying enough attention to notice that the hat was singing a different song than when it had sorted them – he guessed it must do something different each year, though circumstances had come about the last two years leading him to miss the other Sortings.

McGonagall started to call the names of each new student from the scroll of parchment she held, and one by one the students moved up and set the hat on their head, and short moments later it called out their House.

When it got to “Creevey, Dennis”, the small boy stumbled forward, tripping over the moleskin coat that drooped around him. In the back of the room, Harry saw Hagrid himself creep in – or at least as much as a person who was nearly twice as tall as a regular man, and three times as broad, could ‘creep’ anywhere.

Harry turned back to hear “GRYFFINDOR!” shouted by the hat, and the excited Dennis ran over to his brother, and began to talk at high speed about how he’d fallen in and encountered the giant squid.

Harry shrank slightly in his seat and pointedly focused on the Sorting as Colin pointed him out to Dennis, and soon enough the sorting was over and Dumbledore stood up to say his customary words before the Feast.

“I have only two words for you: Tuck in.”  Dumbledore said, and then food appeared across the hall.

Harry glanced down the table and saw Nearly Headless Nick speaking with Ron, Seamus, and Dean – though Ron seemed to be more interested in getting his food from his plate to his mouth than what the ghost had to say.

Harry brought his fork with a sizeable piece of steak to his mouth, and slid his gaze over the next table – the Ravenclaw table – his eyes automatically searching out Cho Chang.  His search ended prematurely, however, when Padma looked up from her conversation and caught his eye, smiling warmly at him before she glanced down at her plate to cut into a piece of chicken.  He looked back to his own plate, feeling heat rise slightly in his cheeks. 

Hermione saw his expression and glanced over her shoulder between bites, and then turned back to Harry with a grin.  “Should I be worried about those two stealing you for their own nefarious purposes, Harry?  Those were quite interesting kisses you received before,” she said teasingly, and Neville nearly choked on a piece of bread next to her as she said it.

“They just kissed me on the cheek,” he said, his cheeks darkening.  “You do it all the time too, they’re just friends.”

Hermione’s eyebrow rose.  “Sure I do, but not with that sort of look in my eye.  Just don’t be surprised if something comes out of it – they like you, as more than just friends.”

Harry didn’t meet her eye, his own fixed on his food.  “Just friends,” he muttered, though he was sure it was the small part of him holding out for something with Cho that had said it.

“Mmhmm,” Hermione said, her tone clearly showing she didn’t believe him for a second, as she raised her cup to her lips to take a sip of pumpkin juice.

 

***************

The feast drew to a close, the rain still drumming against the glass windows, and puddings were served as the desert before Dumbledore finally got to his feet again.

“So! Now that we’re fed and watered, I ask once more for your attention so that I may give a few important notices.”

“Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to tell you the list of forbidden objects has been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs.  The full list of four-hundred and thirty-seven items can be viewed outside of Mr. Filch’s office, should you wish to.”

“As is the case every year, the Forbidden Forest is just that – forbidden and out-of-bounds to all students.  And students third year and up with the proper parental permission forms may go to Hogsmeade Village on scheduled weekends – the schedules are on the bulletin boards in your Common Rooms.”

Dumbledore paused, and looked out over the students.  “It is sadly also my duty to inform all of you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup and Inter-House games will not be taking place this year.”

Harry’s head snapped up at that.  “What?”  He gasped, glancing over at Fred and George who had sat nearby, and were mouthing wordlessly at Dumbledore, looking as if he had not just kicked their puppy, but took it and fed it to a dragon in front of them.

 _‘Bloody Tournament_ ,’ Harry thought, realizing that was what was about to be announced.  ‘ _Quidditch, canceled_?’  The game was usually his escape from everything else, just time for him to fly and focus only on the Snitch.

Murmurings and sounds of outrage began to echo through the hall, Dumbledore continued.  “This is due to an event we will be holding here at Hogwarts, starting in October and being held throughout the school year, which will take its place.  I have the great pleasure of announcing that this year we will be hosting-“

An enormous rumble of thunder drowned out his words, and the doors of the Great Hall banged open, revealing a grizzled old man, leaning upon a long staff.  He started up the aisle between the nearest tables, a dull thunk echoing through the quiet hall with every other step he took.  As he reached the Head Table, and the light caught his face, many in the Hall gasped.

He had a scarred face, his features looking as if they had been chiseled from wood.  A large piece of his nose was missing, but it was his eyes that caught the most attention.  One was ark, small, and beady, and the other was much larger and a bright electric blue.  It rolled around in its socket unceasingly, completely independent from the other eye.

The man reached out a gnarled hand to Dumbledore, who shook it and quietly greeted him.  “It is my pleasure to introduce our new Defence teacher, Professor moody.”

There was muttering throughout the hall, and whispers of “Mad-Eye Moody”, which brought Harry back to earlier that morning – Arthur Weasley had been going to visit someone named Moody.

“He was a great Auror, caught the most Death Eaters of anyone in the DMLE during the War against You-Know-Who,” Neville whispered to Harry and Hermione, staring at the grizzled, scarred man sitting at the Head Table.  “Gran said he trained most of the Aurors who’re around today.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat as they watched Moody pull out a hip flask and drink from it.

“As I was about to say, Quidditch has been canceled because we have the honor and pleasure of hosting an event that has not been held for well over a century.  Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament.”

“You’re JOKING!” said Fred Weasley loudly.

That set most of the people in the hall to laughing, breaking the tension of Moody’s arrival and the announcement about Quidditch.

“I assure you I am not joking, Mister Weasley, though now that you mention it, I heard an excellent one about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun walking into a bar –“

McGonagall broke him from his tangent by clearing her throat loudly, and giving him a pointed look.

“Ah, perhaps another time.  Where was I?  Ah, yes, The Triwizard Tournament.  The Tournament was established some seven-hundred years ago as a competition between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang – the three greatest Wizarding schools in Europe.  Each school has a champion selected from it, and the three champions compete with one another in a series of magical tasks.  Each school hosted the tournament in a rotating pattern every five years.  The death toll, however, mounted so high that they were forced to discontinue the Tournament.”

“Death toll?” Hermione whispered, alarmed;

Harry nodded, and tilted his head toward the other tables.  “I forgot to tell you Susan mentioned the tournament to us.  It sounds pretty dangerous.”

“You’re _not_ thinking of entering, are you?”  Hermione whispered sternly, and Harry quickly shook his head.

“A Basilisk and a few hundred Dementors were more than enough for me,” he muttered back.

“-our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports,” Dumbledore was saying, “have decided to make another attempt.  Every effort has been made to remove the risk of death that has plagued the past attempts.”

“Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and we will hold the selection of champions on Halloween.  The winner will gain glory – and the Triwizard Cup to be held in the halls of their school – as well as a thousand Galleons in prize money.

Harry heard the Weasley twins whispering excitedly about entering, likely to help their burgeoning business.  Across the hall, he could see numerous students with excitement and fervor on their faces, clearly thinking about winning the cup, and also clearly ignoring the “mortal peril” bit.

“Unfortunately, to ensure the safety of participants, the schools along with the Ministry of Magic agreed that only those with a certain level of experience should compete.  As such, only students of age – seventeen years or older – by the day of Halloween, may enter their names.”  This announcement led to cries of outrage, and Fred and George looked positively furious at the caveat. 

Dumbledore went on to explain when the other schools would arrive, and the level of courtesy and respect that should be given them, as well as whoever was chosen as Hogwarts’ champion, before he sent them off to bed.

Harry stood to leave with Hermione and Neville, hearing Fred complain about the fact that he and George would miss the cutoff date by months, their birthday in April.  He caught sight of Ron again, looking off into space, and likely daydreaming about the Tournament and winning the thousand galleons.

The sight of McGonagall at the Head Table, however, reminded him of what he needed to do.  “Hey, can you guys wait for me outside the Great Hall?  I need to talk with Professor McGonagall about something,” he said to Hermione and Neville.

They nodded, and continued toward the doors, though Hermione cast curious looks back at him over her shoulder as she followed Neville.

Harry approached the Head Table, suddenly feeling nervous as he neared his Head of House.

“Can I help you, Mister Potter?”  McGonagall asked, as the teachers around her got up and left to tend to their own Houses. 

“Yes Professor, well… I was wondering, I talked to someone about this and they said you might be able to help…  I - I feel like I’m not learning anything from my Divination elective.  It’s not that it’s a bad class, but I guess I just don’t have ‘The Sight’ or whatever.”

“Hmm, I would agree with you, that it takes… a certain sort of mind,” McGonagall said.  “Unfortunately, you chose the class, and are required to keep an elective course until you have finished your OWLs.

Harry scratched the back of his head.  “I know, Professor, I was just… I did a lot of thinking over the summer,” he said, and swallowed, hoping she would take what he said next the right way.  “I realized I wasn’t doing my best, in school.  I was always settling for average, and I don’t want that to be who I am, and get by on the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ stuff.  I got interested in Curse-Breaking, and I’d like to drop Divination and take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.”

McGonagall stared at him sternly over her glasses for several long moments.  “Let me see your Transfiguration assignment,” she said finally, her tone neutral, “before I decide.”

He opened his rucksack and fished out the essay he’d been assigned, glad that he’d taken the time to rewrite it after speaking with Bill, and thinking about his future.

She took the parchment, and began to read while he stood quietly in front of her, the Great Hall nearly empty.  After several quiet minutes, she finally looked up, and handed it back to him.

“Mister Potter, I must say I am surprised, and quite impressed.  I had always thought you were capable of better, yet never seemed to be able to coax it out of you.  Why have you not been striving for work like this?”

Harry blushed slightly, embarrassed both by her compliments, and her question, and mumbled something.

“What was that, Mister Potter?”

He turned his head up toward her but she could see he wouldn’t meet her eyes.  “It’s how I was raised.  If my cousin did better than me, I was punished.  And he was rubbish at schoolwork.  And when I met Ron… he was my first friend so I sort of just matched him – I didn’t want him to get jealous about that too.”  He said reluctantly.

“Blasted Dursleys, I told Albus,” McGonagall said under her breath, leaving some choice curses completely unspoken.  ‘ _I should have noticed this, and if I have any say, Albus will have my wand up his nose if he tries to send Harry back to them._ ’

She shook her head, and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “I wish you hadn’t hidden your abilities, but I understand why, and it is good to see you have decided to no longer do so.  If you keep up this level of work, both here, and in your electives, I see no reason not to let you start Ancient Runes and Arithmancy – however if I see your grades dropping, we’ll have to rethink things.  I’m sure you also realize you’ll be in third year for those courses?”

Harry nodded, feeling his nervousness dissipate, and a grin formed on his face.  “Yes, ma’am, and if I study enough I can take a placement exam for next year and get put into fifth year?”

McGonagall gave a rare laugh.  “I assume from your rather complete knowledge on the process and your interest in Curse-Breaking, that you talked to William Weasley?”  At his nod, she continued.  “William is a good young man, I’m glad you took whatever he told you to heart.  You may go to your dorm – I will speak with Professors Vector and Babbling about your decision, and get your new schedule made up for you by morning.”

He nodded, and turned to leave, stopping only when she spoke once more.

“And Harry… I expect I’ll be seeing many great things from you.  Perhaps even greater than our own Miss Granger.”

“Thank you, Professor, I’ll try, but she’s scary brilliant in a way I couldn’t ever match.”

McGonagall shared knowing glance with him toward the entrance of the hall where Hermione was talking with Neville.  “Perhaps, though your mother was just as brilliant, and I hope she passed down some of that to you.” 

Harry smiled sadly.  “Me too,” he said softly.  “Goodnight, Professor.”

****************************************************

“I hope no one gets hurt in this Tournament,” Hermione muttered as they moved up the stairs – she’d tried to interrogate Harry on what he’d talked to their Head of House about, but he’d been tightlipped, saying that she’d find out soon enough.

Harry caught Neville’s arm as he tripped on a trick stair, and kept him upright.  “I expect someone will.”  Harry said.  “I’m just glad it can’t be me, with that of-age rule.  I was worrying they would decide to choose me for the publicity.”

“I’m relieved as well,” Hermione said.  “It’s bad enough watching you nearly break your neck playing Quidditch.”

Harry sighed.  “Well, you won’t have to worry about that one either this year,” he said mournfully.

Hermione paused, and then grabbed his hand as they followed a prefect through the hole behind the portrait of the Fat Lady, and into the Common Room.  “I know you’ll miss it, but you can always fly on your own.”

Harry gave a noncommittal grunt. 

She chewed her lip, hating to see her friend like this.  He had told her in his Second Year about how he used flying, and Quidditch, as a needed escape.  Seeing his reaction to the announcement showed her how true that seemed to be,  “Maybe you can throw together some pickup games?  I’m sure at least Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw would be interested.  And when the other schools get here, they might have some Quidditch players.  You could even switch around the teams so they have random players from different houses or schools.”

Harry grinned widely, and turned to pull her into a hug that nearly rivaled her own rib-cage-crushing ones.  “You’re brilliant, Hermione.  That’s a great idea,” he said, his mood brightening.

“Alright then, if I’ve cheered you up enough,” she said, blushing at the compliment, “off to bed with you two, we get our class schedules tomorrow.”

They said their goodnights to one another, and Hermione climbed up the staircase to the girl’s dorms, while they went up theirs.

Harry was in bed by the time Ron, Dean, and Seamus came up, his curtains closed as he pretended he was asleep, preferring to let Ron cool off overnight before attempting to talk with him.

Dean and Seamus moved around the dormitory, hanging up posters on the wall before they got ready for bed, while Ron talked to them about trying to find a way to cheat the system and become the Hogwarts champion.  Harry heard him mentioning Fred and George and an Aging potion, along with some even more bizarre schemes he seemed to have come up with since the announcement at the Feast.

Harry shook his head, and then covered it with his pillow, drifting off into a dream that did not involve the Triwizard Tournament like Ron’s were sure to, but rather two very pretty friends of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****  
> A/N: Well, that’s it for this chapter, I hope you all liked it. If you know the books well, you’ll note that just a change in seating due to Ron leads to Hermione never hearing Nearly Headless Nick mention Peeves and the House Elves, leaving her to enjoy the feast and not obsess over the elves. That’s not to say SPEW won’t make any appearance, but it will be later in the year, and much different.
> 
> I will say ahead of time, those that like Ron are gonna have to hold out for quite a while. Harry’s change in courses, new friends (especially a Slytherin), etc., will not sit well with Ron and come Halloween, he’ll be falling rather far from grace – much more than he did in the book and it’ll take him a good while to grow up, and make amends. But don’t worry, eventually he will – I don’t hate him, I just think he needs some nice big kicks in the seat of his pants to get him to grow up and get over his jealousy issues, and boy will he be getting them!
> 
> Next chapter, classes start! Thanks for reading, see you then, and please review!


	3. Chapter 3: Classes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter! Unfortunately, I am not she, and don't make the big bucks. Nor do I make any money from this fic – it's written solely for my amusement, and yours.  
> A/N: Alright, first off, thanks for the reviews and kudos! It's great to get feedback.
> 
> Now, this chapter (ugh, RL has been a pain, but I finally got this out): I’ve always been disappointed by the complete lack of even a look into an Ancient Runes class in the Harry Potter books, so we’ll get our first look here at my take on that class. Probably Arithmancy next chapter. Anyway, have fun, read, and let me know what you think!

**Chapter 3: Classes**

 

          The storm had blown itself out by the next morning, though the rattling of windows and howling of the wind had woken Harry several times.  It was, however, better than the strange ‘dreams’ he’d been having during the summer that made his scar ache.

          Dean and Seamus were already up and noisily getting ready for the day when Harry headed down to the showers, and they were gone from the dorms when he got back.  Neville was close behind him in getting back from showering, and Ron had emerged from his bed and thrown on his uniform with his hair still bedraggled from sleep.

          “Hey,” Ron grunted blearily.  “Breakfast?”

          Harry grabbed his rucksack and nodded – apparently, Ron was forgoing a shower, as well as avoiding mentioning his behavior the previous day.  “Yeah, Neville and I were just about to head down.  Hermione’s probably already waiting for us in the Common Room.”

          Sure enough, she was.  She flashed them a smile, and then raised an eyebrow at Ron’s appearance, but seemed to visibly hold her tongue – though Harry could almost hear what she’d refrained from saying: “ _Honestly Ronald, it’s only our first day of classes and you’re already sleeping in?”_

          They clambered down the steps of Gryffindor Tower and down to the main floor of the castle, to the Great Hall.  Through the ceiling, Harry could see the sky was still overcast – steely gray clouds hanging low over the sky – though it was clear the storms were done with for the most part.

          Ron’s sleepiness disappeared at the breakfast table as he stacked bacon and eggs onto his plate, and soon enough he seemed back to normal, with none of the sulkiness of yesterday apparent.  Hermione had her essays balanced on her knee – for her to edit for what was probably the fiftieth time – as she absently ate a piece of toast, glancing up from time to time when he or Ron said something to her.  Down the table Harry could hear Fred, George, and Lee discussing various methods to beat the safeguards that would be put into place to enter the tournament – a number of them ones he’d heard Ron talking about the previous night.

          Soon, during their meal, Professor McGonagall came around passing out their course schedules for this year, and nodded to Harry as she handed him his.  Hermione eagerly put her essays back into her bag, and took her schedule and began to look it over.

          “Today’s not too bad, outside all morning – good thing the weather’s cleared” Ron said, running his finger down the Monday column of his course schedule.  “Herbology with the ‘puffs this morning, and Care of Magical Creatures – Damn it, still with the Slytherins.”

          Harry was glancing at his own schedule, and picked out his new classes – one today and one on Wednesday – when he heard Ron groan mightily.

          “Double Divination this afternoon,” Ron said, shaking his head.  “We’ll be stuck in that stuffy old tower for hours.”

          “You should have given it up like me,” Hermione said, as she buttered another piece of toast.  “Then you could be doing something sensible, like Arithmancy.”

          Deciding now was the best time to announce it – whilst Ron was having one of his favorite meals of the day, which was sure to keep him in a somewhat decent mood – Harry spoke up.  “I did drop it, actually.”

          Hermione glanced up, her surprise evident on her face, while Ron almost choked on a piece of bacon.

          “What, mate?”  Ron asked.  “You mean I could’ve just dropped it and we could have had Monday _and_ Wednesday afternoons off?”

          Hermione scoffed.  “No, Ron, you need to have at least two electives, and if you did that you would only have Care of Magical Creatures.”  She eyed Harry with interest.  “What class did you pick up?  I’m sure you’d have an easy time with Muggle Studies.”

          Harry shook his head. “No, I decided to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.  I’m in the 3rd year class for those, so it looks like your Mondays and Wednesdays are the reverse of mine,” he said.

          Hermione’s entire face lit up.  “Oh Harry, really?  I’m so happy to hear that, I’m sure you’ll enjoy both of them.  They’re such useful things to learn, and if you need any help just ask me, I’ve got all my notes from last year up in my trunk.”

          Harry chuckled, having expected exactly that sort of exuberant response to the news from her.  “Thanks, Hermione, I’ll definitely be taking you up on that.”

          “Bloody hell, Harry, you dropped an easy class like Divination for two hard ones?  I think you’ve been around Hermione too much and she’s starting to rub off on you.  We need to get you playing Quidditch fast before you start spending all your time in the library.”  Ron said, peering over at Harry’s class schedule.

          Harry rolled his eyes. “I just decided there were better ways to spend my time than sitting in that smoky tower and listening to Trelawney predict my death every class, and do something I could use when we get out of Hogwarts.”

          Hermione looked quite pleased at Harry’s explanation, but Ron just shook his head in disbelief.  “If you say so, mate.”  He scratched his head.  “I reckon my dad might like it if I took Muggle Studies, but then I’ve already put a year into Divination and would be a year behind the other class.  I’m sticking with Care and Divination – no reason to go making school harder than it needs to be.”

          A sudden rustling noise filled the hall and brought a distracting end to the conversation, as well over a hundred owls came streaming in through the open windows, and swooped down to the students below to drop off mail, newspapers, and packages.  Harry was disappointed to not see Hedwig, but then again he had no idea where she’d had to fly to drop off his letter to Sirius.

          An owl settled down next to Neville with a package – likely something he’d forgotten to pack.  Harry glanced across the hall, and down the table from Malfoy who had received his usual package of sweets from home, he saw Daphne tying a letter to the leg of a Tawny Owl, leaving Harry with a smile on his face for the rest of breakfast.

 

_*-BH-*_

 

          They trudged across the vegetable patch – which had become sodden and mucky after last night’s storms – until they reached Greenhouse Three for their first class of the school year – most of the Hufflepuffs were already there, including Susan who was talking to her blond-haired friend Hannah Abbot.  He saw the pink-cheeked girl glance at him and then lean over and whisper something to Susan, leading both girls to giggle softly; he realized that Susan’s giggle didn’t grate on his nerves like Parvati’s or Lavender’s might.

 Professor Sprout brought them over to an area of the greenhouse where some rather ugly looking plants were protruding vertically from the soil.  They looked like large, thick black slugs, and it even seemed as if they were wriggling slightly.  At the ends of each of the plants were what appeared to be liquid-filled pustules.

          “Bubotubers,” Professor Sprout announced as they gathered around the odd plants.  “They are sorely in need of squeezing.  Your assignments today will be to collect the pus-“

Seamus interrupted her, asking her to repeat what she’d said, and she proceeded to explain that the pus of the bubotuber was a valuable substance, though it often had bad reactions to skin, thus they needed to wear their dragonhide gloves for the rest of class.

Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Ron found a spot to sit around one of the patches of bubotuber plants as Sprout passed around bottles to the class.  Susan settled in next to Harry, pulling her long red hair back into a ponytail, and she was joined by Hannah on her other side.  She gave Harry a soft nudge with her elbow, and then slid on her dragonhide gloves, acting as if she hadn’t done a thing.

Neville, who was on the other side of Harry, had already begun.  He was quite good at Herbology so Harry kept an eye on him as he slowly squeezed the bubotuber, aiming it at one of the bottles.  The next moment, the swelling pustule at the end popped, and shot out a thick yellow-green liquid that stank of petrol.

“That is just _so_ wrong,” said Susan, who had been watching Neville as well.  She took a deep breath through her mouth looking slightly queasy as she reached out to grab one of the bubotubers in front of her.  “Pus,” she muttered.  “Of all possible assignments after I ate a full breakfast.”

          Harry mumbled his agreement. It was a disgusting task, made even worse by the smell of the liquid, but it turned out slightly satisfying to squeeze out the disgusting pus – though imagining the plants crying out for mercy as he did so, certainly helped that.  By the end of the lesson, they had collected several pints of the liquid, and no one had lost their breakfast – though the wan look on Susan’s face suggested she had come close to doing so.

          “You alright there, Susan?” Harry asked quietly as Sprout began to stopper the bottles.

          Susan nodded gratefully as he took her bottle from her hand and passed it down to Neville who in turn gave it to Sprout.  “I’ll be alright, it’s just - I get a little queasy around things like that for some reason.  The smell made it even worse.”  She shuddered.  “I hope that’s it for bubotubers.  If we have to do this next class…”

          Harry grinned slightly, and let her lean on his shoulder to push herself up as she stood, before standing himself.  “Well, unless these things regenerate their pus and skins quickly, we probably won’t see them again for a while.”

          Susan glanced out over the now pus-less crop of bubotubers, and realized that indeed they had taken pus from all of them during the course of the class.

          “This will make Madame Pomfrey happy,” Professor Sprout said as she stoppered the last bottle, mentioning that bubotuber pus could be used as an effective treatment for more severe acne, though some students weren’t aware and tried to take matters into their own hands.

          “Poor Eloise Midgen,” Hannah said in a hushed whisper next to Susan.  “She tried cursing her acne off.”

          “What a silly girl,” Sprout said, shaking her head.  “Thankfully Madame Pomfrey fixed her nose right back onto her face.”

          The booming bell echoed across Hogwarts school grounds, signaling the end of their class.  Susan –  now regaining color as they left the greenhouse and got into the fresh outside air – followed the rest of the Hufflepuffs up the stone steps toward their Transfiguration class, pausing once to wave back at Harry as the Gryffindors headed down the sloping lawn toward their Care of Magical Creatures class with Hagrid.

          Their morning was apparently the morning of ugly things, as not only did they have to deal with bubotubers (as well as Malfoy and his goons), Hagrid’s ‘magical creatures’ for the class were ugly, pale, slimy lobster-looking things, covered in legs and smelling of rotting fish.  Hagrid announced them to be Blast-Ended Skrewts – named after the sparks and propulsion that randomly shot out of the creatures and propelled them around – and informed them that their assignments for the near future were to raise the creatures, which were recently hatched.

          He had unfortunately never raised any before, so their first class was spent trying to feed the creatures various things including eggs and frog livers, none of which they seemed to eat.  By the end of the class, the creatures had not eaten a single piece of the various foods offered to them, and had caused quite a few burns to the hands of some of their fellow students.

          “Well, at least the Skrewts are small,” said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch after their class – the ground had dried slightly despite the sun being hidden mostly by the wispy grey clouds, making it a much more pleasant trip than the one they’d taken earlier in the morning.

“For now,” Hermione said warily, “but once Hagrid finds out what they eat, I don’t think they’ll stay that way.”

          “As long as they don’t grow as big as Fluffy, we should be alright,” Harry said with a grin, referring to the enormous 3-headed Cerberus dog they’d faced in their first year, which Hagrid affectionately and very inaccurately named ‘Fluffy’.

          Ron paled slightly.  “Imagine one of those things blasting around by their ends.  You’d be dead the moment they landed on you!”

 

_*-BH-*_

 

          Lunch was over quick enough, and Hermione left a few minutes before the afternoon bell rang to get to her Arithmancy class, saying she needed to make one last edit to her summer essay.

          At the bell, Ron gave a grudging ‘goodbye’ to Harry, and joined Dean and Seamus in their climb to Divination classroom at the top of the North Tower.  Harry had to glance back at his course schedule to find his classroom – one on the 6th floor of the main part of the castle – and realized he’d never even paid attention to where Hermione went for her classes apart from the ones she took with him.

          It took a few wrong turns and staircases for him to get to where he wanted to go, but he eventually reached the classroom.  As he stepped in he noted it was large – not quite as big as the Defense classroom, but easily the size of their Charms classroom. 

          Charts covered with unfamiliar symbols hung from the walls, some covered with the symbols and others seeming to be translation charts for the symbols.  A low countertop ran around the perimeter of the room and was covered with objects of all shapes and sizes, each carved with runic script.  He saw some rock tablets in one of the corners of the room that looked as if they could have come from ancient megaliths like Stonehenge, and nearer to him he saw long pieces of wood similar to the piece he’d used on the train compartment just the previous day.

          A number of the Third Year Ravenclaws were already in the room at seats, though it seemed he was the first Gryffindor to enter the room.  Off to one side, away from the other girls, he caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair.  Ignoring several stares and whispers from the Ravenclaws that were huddled together, he reached the front of the room, and sat next to Astoria, who gave a startled gasp before realizing who had sat down.

          “H-Harry,” she said, her hand rising to her chest.  “You surprised me. Professor McGonagall let you join the class?”

          When he nodded, she grinned widely.  “Great!”  She exclaimed, and then blushed heavily when she realized how quiet the room had gone. 

“Y-you still want to be study partners?” She asked, after Harry looked across the room, causing everyone to look away quickly and start talking again.

“Of course,” Harry said with a soft smile to the younger girl.

Astoria’s grin returned, and then a look of realization passed over her face.  “Oh, Daph told me if I saw you, she sent a letter to Mum this morning, about the Owl block on you.”  She glanced around the room, which had begun to fill with more Ravenclaws, and some of the Gryffindors that had entered the class.  “Daph wouldn’t say it, but I think Mum was sad that you never responded – she’ll be really glad to get that letter.”

Harry swallowed down a bit of guilt as he looked at Astoria’s watery, hazel eyes.  He knew there had been no way to know that sort of mail was being stopped, but his – and Ron’s – attitude in the last few years had kept Daphne from ever approaching him.  He swore once again that he would do his best to continue to start friendships with others outside of his house, and Astoria would be one of them. 

He was about to respond to Astoria, when a soft, dreamy voice spoke up from his left. 

“Would you mind if I sat next to you, Harry Potter?”

Harry glanced over, and found a Ravenclaw girl standing mere inches from him, leaving him to wonder how he hadn’t heard her approach.  Her straggly, dirty-blonde hair was nearly waist-length, and her protuberant grey eyes – framed above by faint blonde eyebrows – seemed to be both staring at him and at something behind him at the same time.  He glanced down, taking in an odd Butterbeer cork necklace hanging from her neck, and saw one of her dainty hands resting on the chair beside him, each of her nails painted a different color, ranging from bright pink to neon green. 

“Err, sure,” Harry said.

“Oh, Harry,” Astoria said from the other side of him, and he glanced back over to her as the odd blonde girl sat down on the other side of him.  “This is my friend Luna Lovegood.”

Harry looked once more to the blonde, who had set her rucksack on the table and pulled out several books before turning her dreamy gaze back to him.  “Hello Luna,” he said, holding out a hand.  “It’s nice to meet you, I’m…” he trailed off as he remembered her first words.  “I guess you know who I am already.”

Luna stared at his hand for several long moments before reaching out to shake it – her own hand was tiny, only slightly more than half the size of his own, and cool in his grasp.  “Yes, Harry Potter, I know who you are.  Most people do.  It’s nice to see you in our class, and even nicer to see that your Wrackspurt infestation has cleared up.”

“Infestation?”  Harry asked, perplexed.

She nodded confidently.  “Wrackspurts.  They’re invisible.  They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy, but it looks like your infestation has cleared up quite nicely.”

Astoria gasped, her face going red again at her friend’s comment.  “Luna!  That’s not nice!” 

Harry chuckled, and looked at Luna with new interest.  He wasn’t sure if she was serious – for all he knew she could be creature-obsessed like Hagrid, and there really was such a thing.  Or she could just be having him on and being rather starkly honest about how he’d behaved the past few years, masking it in terms of a made-up creature.  He wasn’t sure which he preferred, but either way, she had a refreshingly odd personality that he was already beginning to like.

“I guess you’re right then,” Harry said with a wry grin.  “My Whatsits have stopped fuzzing up my brain.”

“Wrackspurts,” Luna said again, this time sounding rather scarily like Hermione when she corrected Ron or him.

He heard a titter of laughter, and mocking whispers from across the room where a group of Ravenclaw girls sat.  As he glanced back to where they were staring at Astoria, Luna, and himself, he nearly missed a hurt look flash across Luna’s face at the whispers.  Just as soon as it appeared, her face returned to its dreamy state, and she seemed to pointedly not turn around toward the laughing students. 

Instead, she locked her protuberant eyes on the empty spot on the table in front of Harry.  “Harry Potter, did you forget your books?”

“Please, just call me Harry,” he said, and then nearly slapped his forehead as the rest of her words registered.  He had planned to take Hermione up on her offer and to ask to borrow her books as well until he could send in an order through owl post for the books, but had completely forgotten about it at lunch.

“Erm, yeah sort of.  I didn’t know if I’d be able to get into this class, so I don’t have any books.  I was going to borrow from my friend Hermione until I could send a post order from Flourish and Blotts, but I forgot to ask her.”

“No need to do that, Mr. Potter,” a cheery female voice came from behind them down the aisle of the classroom.  A woman who looked to be in her sixties strode up to the front of the room, a pair of silver eyeglasses catching the light of the room as she turned.  Her greying brown hair was pinned up into a bun, and a kindly smile dominated her face, causing her cheeks to dimple noticeably.  “I’m sure your table-mates would be willing to share for today, and I have some extra textbooks back in my office that I’d be willing to sell – it will save you that dreadfully high multi-book shipping charge that Flourish and Blotts has.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Harry said.

Her smile widened.  “I’m glad you have decided to take this course, I was disappointed not to see you in class last year.”  She looked out over the rest of the class.  “As I’m sure you’re aware from your class schedules, I am Professor Bathsheda Babbling.  If you’re not here for Ancient Runes, you’re in the wrong classroom,” she said with a chuckle.

“As I already know who Mr. Potter is, I’d like to get to know the rest of you as well, so we’ll begin with our roll call,” she took a parchment off her desk, and started to call names.

Harry glanced around the room as the others responded, and received an energetic wave from Colin Creevey from across the room when he spotted him.  One noticeable absence from the Third Year Gryffindors – though he had to admit he only knew perhaps half of them in passing – was Ginny Weasley.  It was a bit surprising, but after thinking about it he realized he didn’t really know what her interests were – she may have found other classes to be more worth her while.

 

_*-BH-*_

 

Once the last of the names were called, Professor Babbling rolled up the parchment and tossed it back to her desk.  As he glanced down he realized he’d missed a bit of coordination between the girls on either side of him – Astoria had moved her _Beginner’s Guide To Ancient Runes_ book closer to him, and Luna had opened up her _Rune Dictionary_ on the other side, so he could look at both of the required textbooks with little effort.

He whispered a soft “Thanks” to them as Professor Babbling moved over to the large blackboard on the wall, and pulled on a cord, gently bringing down a large chart that had been rolled up above.  It was titled _Runes And Other Magical Symbols Of The World_ , and was covered with hundreds of different symbols, each grouped together by the society that had used them, ranging from Norse to Incan to Japanese.

“The name of this class is not exactly accurate,” Professor Babbling began.  “We will certainly cover the ancient runes of past civilizations, but there is much more to the subject than just that – some civilizations never used runes, but instead other symbols or pictures that they imbued their magic into for various purposes.”

She waved a hand at the chart.  “As you can see, nearly every magical culture has used Runes and similar symbols.  In fact, they are Old Magic, and were used many years before any Witch or Wizard ever created the first Staff or Wand.  Runes have always been very versatile, and very powerful, even more powerful than a normal spell.”

She nodded to a Ravenclaw, Thomas if Harry remembered correctly from the roll call, who sat across the aisle from them and had raised his hand.

“Why don’t we use them more then?  If they’re that good, shouldn’t this be a required course?” The boy asked.

Bathsheda chuckled.  “Excellent question.  If I had my way, it _would_ be a required course, even though it would mean a lot more work for me in grading, but unfortunately I don’t make coursework decisions – that’s left to the Headmaster and the Hogwarts School Board.”

She paused for a moment.  “To answer your other question, Runes in the form that you can see here are not used as often in the present due to the fact that they can get very complicated, and the more complex runic arrays can be dangerous if even a single mistake in a rune is made.  They can also take a long time to set up the same effect that you get from a few seconds of wandwork.”

Babbling lifted a hand-sized stone tablet from her desk, and ran her finger over the runes.  “They are still used in the creation of wards, however.  Every ward is created through use of wardstones, which are covered with runes that set up the spell that they are meant to produce.  Typically a ward will consist of an anchor stone, much like this, and will be connected to perimeter stones, which it provides magical power to, in order for them to create the ward itself.”

She lowered her hand to tap the wand she’d placed on her desk.  “Very few people know this, but everyone uses runes every day without even realizing it.   When you enter school, the importance of wand movements is emphasized for new students.  What those movements actually are, however, are strings of runes meshed together.  You are essentially drawing runes with your magic as you move your wand, and because each rune has a different effect, that is the reason why every spell has its own unique wand movement.  Because younger witches and wizards have much weaker magic, the wand movements create runes that help to concentrate the magic they do have, and work together with your wand and wand core in focusing it into a spell with the effects you want.”

Harry raised his hand now, and she called on him.  “But it’s possible to do magic without those movements, or even without a wand, right?  We’ve all seen the Headmaster do it at the Opening Feast before…”

Babbling shook her head slightly.  “It’s certainly possible – in your sixth year you learn how to do spells without speaking the incantation, and in seventh year you begin to learn how to do the spells without wand movement, though few master that.  The Headmaster is certainly capable of some wandless magic, but I’m afraid most of what you see at the Opening Feast is a bit too complex even for him.  It is actually the house elves that belong to Hogwarts that make your food and plates appear when he waves his hands.”

Harry sat back in his seat, a bit disillusioned at hearing that, though he realized it made some sense.  Remembering Hermione’s outrage at house elves being owned, he was rather glad she wasn’t in the class to hear that Hogwarts’ meals were served – and likely cooked – by elves that belonged to the school.  Knowing her, she’d go on a hunger strike.

“Now,” Professor Babbling said, clapping her hands together.  “During the first half of the year, we will be focused only on the drawing and memorizing of runes and their meanings.  You may find it somewhat boring, but I promise you that if you get the basics down now, the next few years will be very fun.” 

Babbling passed out a several-page syllabus to each student, which scheduled out their reading and homework assignments for the fall term. “We will start this week by focusing on a set of runes created by Germanic tribes, known as the Elder Futhark Runes.  They are the oldest actual Runic alphabet, though magical symbols were used back in Ancient Egypt – we’ll cover those more complicated symbols in your next year.  The Elder Futhark was later changed in Scandinavia into the Younger Futhark, and then by the Anglo-Saxons into the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, which would have been used by wizards like Merlin, and the Founders of this school.  In fact, a few examples of their use of the runes still exist today on some of Hogwarts’ anchor stones, should you someday have the fortune of viewing those.”

“As you can see, there will be a lot of work the next few months, but if you look at it, you’re essentially starting to learn several dozen new languages all at once.  When you have a grasp on them, the work will become easier, and will be more about application rather than memorization.”  She held up one of the textbooks. 

“Okay, to start off, let’s turn in our _Rune Dictionary_ to the Elder Futhark section, and begin to talk about the first rune, the _fehu_ rune, which in the language of the time meant ‘wealth’ – or more literally, ‘cattle’ or ‘sheep’, the mobile wealth of people in those days.  This rune is most often used for amplification of other runes, by providing a ‘wealth’ of power to others, amplifying the magic flowing through a runic array – muggleborns here might recognize it as similar to the devices on electric lines that changes the strength of the electricity.  Transformers, I believe? When we get further into the course we’ll see that runes can be reversed, and have the opposite effect, in this case decreasing magic flow.” 

“Now,” she said, reaching out to her rune chart to tap a specific rune, which suddenly took over the full length of the chart while everything else faded into the background. “I’d like you all to practice inscribing this rune onto your papers – two dozen times should be a good start, for me to get an idea of who needs help, and with what.”

 

_*-BH-*_

Even though it was a Double class, taking up the afternoon, the class was over all too soon for Harry who had found himself beginning to quite enjoy it.  Professor Babbling kept the class lively, pausing from time to time for anecdotes on each rune that they covered.  She had an engaging style of teaching, and explained things in a simple way that he really liked.  If only she could teach Potions!

They went over half of the Elder Futhark alphabet – 12 of 24 letters – and it had come almost naturally to him.  Within one or two attempts on each rune he was drawing them almost flawlessly.  Out of the class only Luna seemed to be matching him, though she had quietly informed him that her father regularly used runes and made rune puzzles in his paper, _The Quibbler_ , so she knew many of the runic alphabets they were set to learn over the first few weeks.

Astoria had some difficulties in the drawing of the runes, so he and Luna spent their free time after perfecting their own, helping her out and giving her advice, while Professor Babbling moved around the room and helped some of the groups having the most trouble.  He felt a shameful bit of glee that the group that had been laughing and whispering about Luna were the ones in the most need of help in the class thus far. 

Just over the course of the class he realized he already viewed the quirky young blonde as a friend, and felt a bit of protectiveness well up in him, especially when she had to borrow a quill and ink from him due to hers going missing.  She said something about creatures called Nargles stealing them, but he caught a glimpse of Astoria glaring back over her shoulder at some of her classmates, and suspected they had something to do with it.  Given Astoria’s reaction he guessed this sort of thing had happened their previous years.  Bullies were one thing he had no tolerance for, having been bullied for years by his cousin and his cousin’s friends, especially when they targeted those he viewed as his friends.

“Alright everyone,” Professor Babbling spoke up as the bell rang to indicate the end of their class.  “You have your homework – a short essay on the meanings of the runes you learned.  I recommend you keep practicing with your rune-writing as well – there may just be a small quiz at the beginning of next class,” she said with a wink.  “Mr. Potter, if you’re not busy, could you stay after class?  I’d like to talk with you, and we need to see about getting you those coursebooks.”

Harry nodded, and packed away his notes.  “See you next class, Astoria,” he said, and then turned to Luna, who was trying to hand him his spare quill and inkwell. 

He shook his head, and reached down grab her hand and close it around the objects.  “Keep them, Luna.  I have plenty, and you’ll need them tomorrow anyway.  It was very nice to meet you – I hope you’ll sit with us next class?”

Luna’s face lit up, and she gave him a crooked smile.  “You are a very good person, Harry Po-“ she paused, her brows furrowing.  “Harry, I mean.  Thank you for the gift, I would love to sit with you and ‘Stori again.”

He returned her smile, and then let go of her hand, watching as she pulled that hand up to clutch the quill and inkwell almost reverently to her heart, and then pull her rucksack over the shoulder of her free arm. 

“Bye Harry,” Astoria said before she grabbed Luna’s elbow and led her dreamy friend from the room, which was now nearly empty.

He turned back to find Bathsheda waiting for him, and when the last student filed from the room, she smiled warmly at him.  “Come, Mr. Potter, let’s talk in my office.”

She led him out a side door he hadn’t noticed, and then down the hall toward a staircase, talking as she went.  “You looked like you were enjoying the class,” she said conversationally.

Harry nodded.  “I did – I think this might become my favorite class.”

“Though I suppose getting out of Divination probably helps your perception?”  She asked, and then chuckled when he blushed and stammered.  “Don’t worry, I took Divination when I went here, and you lasted about six months longer than I did.  It’s good for people that have that sort of gift, but most of us don’t.  Even back then, most students used it as an easy grade-buffer to get an easy extra OWL or NEWT.  I couldn’t stand it – I needed something that made me think, something that made sense, and that’s how I ended up focusing on Ancient Runes.”

Harry nodded hesitantly, not used to professors speaking so frankly about the merits – or lack thereof – of the classes of their colleagues.  “It… I realized it wasn’t going to help me in any careers I’m interested in, and…” He paused, and decided to be just as frank as she had been.  “I was tired of stumbling through it and making things up in class.”

She winked knowingly at him as they reached the bottom of the moving staircase and started walking along the fifth floor corridor.  “I know exactly what you mean.  If you don’t mind me asking, what careers are you thinking about?”

“Well, mainly Curse-Breaking right now.”

“Ah,” she said, and slowed slightly.  “I assume you spoke to Bill Weasley then?”  At his nod, she continued.  “Since you’re friends with the Weasley family I figured that would have been the case.  I thought of going into Curse-Breaking, but back in those days it was a man’s career, and very few women were welcome.  I hear that’s changed now, something like forty-percent of ‘Breakers are women.”

They finally stopped in front of a nondescript door, which she opened.  The candles around the room flickered to life as she entered, and he found himself in a room that looked quite similar to the classroom.  There were once again runestones and other objects covering much of the open surfaces, charts and runic writings hanging on the wall – the only difference was that a full half of the walls were covered by ceiling high bookshelves stuffed full of books both old and new.

She walked over to a particular bookcase and reached up, running her finger along the bindings of a number of textbooks until she found the ones she was looking for.  She pulled the two books from the shelf, and set them on her desk before inviting him to sit in one of the armchairs.  Rather than going to the side of her desk where her rather comfortable-looking chair sat, she took the second armchair next to his, and turned it to face him.

He reached into his rucksack and began to rummage around for the small sack he kept his Wizarding money in.  “How much?” he asked, hoping he had the right amount with him – Molly Weasley had shopped for them this summer so he had no idea what any of his books had cost, let alone what these ones would cost, and had no chance to pick up extra money at Gringotts.

Professor Babbling shook her head, and grabbed the books from her desk, an almost wistful look passing over her face as she ran her hand down the cover of _Beginner’s Guide To Ancient Runes_.  “Save your money, Mister Potter.  I just mentioned it in class so as to not cause you any ill-will amongst your fellow students.”

She nodded toward his rucksack.  “You truly have a gift for Runes, and I’m glad to be able to teach you.  I’ve only seen one other student who has taken to the subject so quickly, and if you’re anything like her, I expect you’ll be teaching me a few new things in the next few years.”

“Who was the other student?”  He thought of both Luna and Hermione for the moment but realized Bathsheda had spoken of her as student from the past, one who had been her student for years.

“Your mother,” she said gently, causing his heart to skip a few beats at what she had just told him.  “Lily Evans was a genius with Runes – it was like a second nature to her, and it seems like she passed some of that on to you.  Had she lived longer, I’m convinced she would have been the youngest witch to ever get a Mastery in the subject, and become one of the most famous Runemasters to ever live.”  She smiled wryly at him.  “She was my favorite student, and I admit I was disappointed not to see you in my class last year.”

Harry took a deep breath.  “My mum… what- what was she like?” He asked softly.

Bathsheda seemed to gaze into the corner of the room behind him in remembrance.  “She was smart- or rather, simply brilliant.  Your friend Ms. Granger reminds me of her, though your mother was much less focused on just books than your friend is.  Lily had a very wicked sense of humor – I don’t recall the specifics, but I remember in her last few years at school she was using runes and wards to teach your father and his friends a series of painful lessons, and I believe they never pranked her again once she was through with them.”

Harry chuckled slightly at that – the infamous Marauders being put in their place by his mother.  He made a mental note to ask Sirius exactly what she’d done to them to scare them off of pranking her. 

“Looking back,” Bathsheda continued, her expression turning mournful, “I think she was expecting that she might not live through the war.  Our last meeting had a certain feeling of…. finality to it.  She came to visit me shortly before they went into hiding, and gave me her textbooks which she had written in over the years, and some of her notes, for safekeeping.  Said I could probably use them more than she could with what was going on.”

Bathsheda lifted the books from her lap and handed them to Harry.  “I think she would want you to have them.  There are more, but like I said in class, this is a dangerous subject – I’ll give them to you when I think you have enough knowledge on the subject to handle them, if that’s alright?”

Harry nodded absently before he carefully took the books she had proffered, and reverently opened one of them.  He could feel tears prick at the corner of his eyes when he saw little doodles in the front cover, and then feminine handwriting along the margins of the first few pages, complete with plenty of circling of text and arrows, showing her thought processes as she had gone through.  He ran his finger along some of the writing.  The whole experience was rather overwhelming and he felt at that moment as if the books were the only thing other than himself in the world.  Likely only his mother – and of course Professor Babbling – had touched these pages, and it was the first real thing he’d ever had that was close to her.  He had received the Marauder’s Map and the Invisibility Cloak that his father used, but other than pictures of Lily Potter in Hagrid’s picture book, he had nothing from her except for the faint – and rather grim – memories that came to the forefront when Dementors were near.

He felt a wry smile spread across his face when he realized that many of her notes had tiny dates underneath each, some ranging from when she’d likely first got the book, and others up until 1979.  ‘ _She definitely had a good bit in common with Hermione,_ ’ he thought to himself.

“Thank you,” he said – his voice cracking slightly as he looked up to Bathsheda.

“You’re welcome,” she said, and leaned forward to rest a hand on his shoulder.  “From what I’ve seen, both in class today, and during your last few years, your mother would be incredibly proud of you.  And I think you have the same promise she showed.”

Harry nodded quickly and stared down at the books once more, trying to get his emotions under control – it wouldn’t do to start crying in front of a Professor – if Ron, or worse, Malfoy, found out somehow, he’d never hear the end of it.

Bathsheda seemed to understand that as well, and gave him a few long moments before she began to talk again.  “Now, Minerva tells me you were hoping to finish this year, and work over the summer on Fourth Year material and take a placement test to get placed with your Fifth Year classmates.”

Harry nodded, though felt a niggle of doubt at the idea.  Not the studying – he was certain he could get the material down, especially if Hermione helped him with a study guide – but leaving behind his newfound friends.  To get the apprenticeship that Bill had mentioned, however, that’s how it would have to be.

“I’d like to get all of my OWLS in my fifth year,” he said.

She nodded, and pursed her lips.  “Every student is welcome to come to me for tutoring, and if you plan to do that, I’d recommend it, to make sure you learn as much as possible of the basics.  I’m sure Ms. Granger would be willing to help you as well.  And over the summer, feel free to Owl me if you have any questions – I’ll be sure to give you the syllabus and the list of materials you will need beforehand.”

She smiled again as his eyes were drawn back to the books once more.  “That was all that I wanted to talk to you about, I’m sure you’re getting hungry, and want to look through your mother’s books, so I won’t keep you.”

_*-BH-*_

Harry felt as if he had a spring in his step as he made his way down the staircases, taking most of the stairs two at a time as he bounded down toward the Great Hall.  He didn’t think there was anything that could top off the day he’d just had – an easy morning, a very enjoyable new class, a new friend, and now these books filled with his mother’s notes.

As he reached the Entrance Hall, however, he was soon to find that there was something that would serve like frosting on top of his cake.  In the center of the Entrance Hall was a very strange sight.  There stood Professor Moody, using his wand to bounce an albino ferret through the air – ten feet or more, before it landed on the ground with a smack and then bounced upward once again.  Its feet and tail were flailing as it gave off terrified squeaks while Moody said something about attacking people while their backs were turned.

Behind Moody, he could see Ron staring at the spectacle with a dazed grin on his face, and a dreamy look in his eyes that almost rivaled Luna’s.  Next to him, Hermione was equally transfixed, though her expression was more of horror, her hand clamped over her open mouth.

“Professor Moody!” Came a shocked voice just to Harry’s left, and he looked over to see Professor McGonagall coming down the staircase next to him.

“Hello, Professor McGonagall,” Moody said calmly as he made the ferret bounce once more, as if it were a common sight in the halls of Hogwarts.

“What are you doing?” she asked him, her eyes moving and head swiveling to watch as the ferret bounced even higher.

“Teaching,” Moody said simply.

“Teachi- Moody, is that a student?” She shrieked, the books she’d been carrying now spilling out of her arms.

“Yep!” Moody replied, a hint of pride in his voice.

“No!” Professor McGonagall shouted, running down the stairs over her own books as she pulled out her wand.

A moment later, there was a loud snapping sound, and then a sight he would always remember.  In place of the ferret, Draco Malfoy appeared, his hair all over the place and his eyes darting around in fear.

Harry dimly heard McGonagall scolding Moody for using transfiguration on a student, but few of the words made it over his own laughter, and that of the students that had watched the spectacle.

Finally Moody grabbed Malfoy’s arm and marched him toward the dungeons, and a rather unhappy McGonagall flicked her wand to return her books to her before telling the students gathered there to go about their business.

When Harry met Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, Ron was still in a daze.  When Harry looked at him, Ron said “Don’t talk to me.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked, surprised. 

“Because I need to fix that in my memory forever,” he said, closing his eyes, a serene expression on his face.  “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret.”

Both Harry and Hermione laughed, and Harry silently agreed with his friend – that was definitely a memory of a lifetime.

Ron remained much in his dreamlike state for the meal, only eating when Hermione put some of the beef casserole onto his plate.

Hermione explained how the situation had come about – Ron and Malfoy had gotten into an argument, ending with them insulting one another’s mothers, and Malfoy tried to hex Ron with his back turned – Moody had been watching, and intervened, leading to that surreal scene.

While she was explaining, the twins had come near, and were practically singing Moody’s praises after both having their lesson with him that afternoon and seeing him bounce ferret-Draco around.  Unfortunately Fourth Years didn’t have his class for several more days.

“So,” Hermione said after she swallowed a mouthful of her casserole, Fred and George now back down the table with Lee, talking animatedly to Katie, Angelina, and Alicia.  “How did you like Ancient Runes?”

Harry grinned.  “It was brilliant.  I should have listened to you last year and taken it then.  Professor Babbling said I have a talent for it – and that my mum did too.”

Hermione glanced up, surprised for a moment.  “Hm, I guess she’s old enough to have taught your mum – I hadn’t thought of that before.”

Harry’s grin widened.  “Apparently you’re also one of her best students.”

She flushed, and smacked him on the arm.  “I’m alright, I wouldn’t say the best, you flatterer.”

He shook his head.  “Professor Babbling said it, not me.  She also gave me the books my mum used – I’ll show them to you tonight in the Common Room.  Apparently she was something of a genius with Runes, and there’s a lot of notes she wrote in them.”

Hermione’s eyes gleamed, and she grabbed up a large forkful of her meal before giving him a look.  “Well, don’t just sit there, get eating!”

He shook his head, chuckling as he started to eat once more – _now_ this perfect day was complete.

  
_*-BH-*_

  
_*-BH-*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the chapter (I simply had to end with the Amazing Bouncing Ferret). We saw a bit of Susan this chapter, but much of it was focused on Harry’s new class, and meeting everyone’s favorite blonde Ravenclaw. Next chapter, more of Susan and Padma, and likely we’ll get to Harry’s first Arithmancy class, and perhaps an answer or two about the owl ward.
> 
> See you guys next time!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Welp, that’s it folks, hope you like the first chapter. I didn’t like how few close friends Harry had in the books (until end of fifth year). This is a look at a somewhat smarter, more aware Harry who is more willing to make friends, and already has in the form of Susan and Padma, and soon Daphne and Astoria as well (along with others coming up – a certain blonde Ravenclaw for one).
> 
> As well, I always thought it odd that Rowling didn’t do much to reflect what goes through most young minds when meeting someone they look up to and admire – the ole “I want to be just like (insert here) when I grow up” reaction. She had Harry clearly think Bill (or even Charlie) was cool, someone to look up to, etc., yet never had him think of trying to emulate him? Here, Harry just gets a bit more of a push (or a series of pushes), and we’ll be seeing a much more motivated Harry (and likely an eventual Cursebreaker!Harry - I’ve seen one fic like that, actually take that back, I know jbern has a fic with a sequel about a Cursebreaker Harry, but I’ve tried reading it a dozen times, just, I dunno, I can’t seem to get into any story that’s from 2nd person perspective, too jarring or something).
> 
> Anyway, official pairing is again, Harry/Susan/Padma. Daphne will turn out to be more like a close sister to him (as will Astoria). Other pairings, well, we’ll see when we come to them – don’t want to reveal everything in one go! Though suffice to say they won’t be conventional (and certainly no Ron/Hermione! Ugh!). Oh, and don't make too many assumptions about the story with the owl ward thing - things aren't as simple as they seem there...... more on that in a coming chapter. ;)
> 
> I’ll quit yapping your ear off, and I’m off to work on the next chapter!


End file.
